


The Demon's Bride

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Also Bitches, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Germanic Medieval (Sort of), Apprentice!Sansa, Bestiality, Cracked!Fairytale, Cursed, Cursed!Beric, Curses abound, Demon dog, Demon!Sandor, Dubious Consent, Evil Witches, Extremely close, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Frog!Beric, Gen, He can't die - With a TWIST, He didn't ask but she didn't say no - so..., Hellhounds, Like Humpty Dumpty kind of cracked, Lollys is purehearted, Mage!Sandor, Magic, Magic is complicated, Margaery is selfish, Podpunzel, Sansa is horny, Sexual Experimentation, close friends, don't kink shame me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7561996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three Rules To Follow When Living On The Edge Of The Dark Woods<br/>1) Never go into the forest alone<br/>2) Never drop your guard<br/>3) Never let the Demon in</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1, Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deviatehardorgohome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviatehardorgohome/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Astray, or, Little Redhead and the Big Bad Lion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6430576) by [deviatehardorgohome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviatehardorgohome/pseuds/deviatehardorgohome). 



> I have no idea anymore...this is definitely different from the usual SanSan.  
> Got the idea after reading deviatehardorgohome's Astray and after my werewolf fic. Oh, and it starts off racy, so...fair warning.

Running. She was running. Branches broke as she ran through the woods, but she could hear the beast closing the gap. It had been playing with her as it gave chase. A tree root tripped her and down she went. She scrambled to get back up, but it was too late. The great black beast was upon her, its breath hot on her neck, its paws holding her down. Tears streamed down her cheeks. _‘I’m going to die,’_ Sansa thought. ‘This beast is going to kill me.’ The words the seer spoke to her not two months ago suddenly rang in her head, _The demon will be your undoing._ _But you will also be his. You will burn together._

She had been heading to the well outside of the village, not far from the edge of the woods. The water there was sweeter than the village well, and she had been sure that the demon was not nearby. The woods the beast lived in and called its territory were so massive, it took six to nine months to travel from one end to the other. The beast was known to travel across it, never staying anywhere in it for a longer than a week. It has last been spotted two weeks ago.

It growled softly as it sniffed at her hair, licking her cheek, then moving down her back, sniffing, sniffing, sniffing, down to her bottom, then her legs, then her feet. Shivers went through her as it worked its way down. She waited with baited breath, expecting to feel its teeth sink into her soft flesh. Its cold nose was on her ankle, licking at the bare skin, tasting her. She shuddered, too terrified to move. It snuffled back up her leg, moving her skirt up, exposing more of her skin to the chilly late autumn air, the soft snuffles and licks sending warm shivers up her body. When it got to her thighs, she realized the beast was no longer growling, and there was a warmth in between her legs. The beast panted happily and nuzzled its way up to her covered womanhood, shoving its nose into it and then licking at the cloth. She tried to suppress a moan.

It pawed at her underclothes, nipped at them until it was able to capture the fabric in its teeth and pulled them down, somehow getting them off of her. Then it attacked, its soft tongue finding its way into her womanhood. She gasped at how good it felt, her fingers tearing into the soft soil beneath her. Unwittingly, she raised her hips to meet the beast’s exploration, bringing herself up to her knees. She felt hot all over, could hear her blood pounding in her ears as the creature lapped at her most secret place. She whined, needing something, but not knowing what.

“Please…” she gasped, “I need...I need more.” The beast stopped momentarily, and she whimpered, then it was climbing on top of her. She felt something pushing against her womanhood, something hot, something pulsing, something she wanted inside her. “Yes...please,” she whispered, pushing back, wiggling her hips and making noises to encourage the beast. Then it entered her, and such exquisite pain she felt, crying out as it tore her maidenhead. The creature nuzzled her neck, licking her in a comforting way. “It hurts,” she sobbed, “but I still want...I don’t...please don’t stop...I just… I need a moment or two.” The creature continued to nuzzle and lick her, soothing her until the pain faded to a manageable level. The creature rocked gently above her, pressing against her in just the right way, building up the warmth, that good feeling again, making her forget the pain. She moaned, “Yes...please...that feels good. Please…”

The creature thrust into her a bit harder, a bit faster, causing her to moan louder. She could feel it, something inside her, building deliciously. “Oh gods,” she gasped, pushing back to meet the creature’s thrusts, her hands bracing against anything she could find so that she could keep herself in place. Its bulk was looming over her, she was helpless, yet she wouldn't trade this spot for any other place in the world right now. “Yes, please, this feels so good…” she begged. “Please don’t stop!”

The creature stopped suddenly and Sansa protested, but then she heard it, too. Shouting. It was getting closer. “The villagers,” she said in horror. They would kill the creature, and probably her as well, for laying with it willingly. “You must go!”

The creature growled, but allowed her to scramble from under it. She straightened her dress and looked up at the creature. It was the first time she was seeing it properly and she was only slightly startled. She had had a rough idea of what it looked like, but actually seeing it now... Before her was a great beast of a dog. It looked like a hellhound, from Old Nan’s stories, standing tall, nearly as tall as her. Its muzzle and half its face was scarred, twisted flesh with no fur and her heart ached for the pain it must have gone through. The shouting was louder still, soon the villagers would find her. Soon they would find him. She couldn’t let that happen. Not when he had made her feel so good.

She took a tentative step closer to him. He cocked his head to the side. She took another step, then another, until she was right in front of him, her hands on his head, stroking his ears softly. “You must go. You must hide. I’ll tell them...I’ll tell them it was nothing, that I got scared of my own shadow. They won’t know it was you, I promise, but you must go.”

The hellhound nuzzled her chest, licking her teats through her clothing. She felt them tighten and she moaned. The hellhound sucked his head down, flipped her skirt up with his nose and found her womanhood again with his tongue. His tail was wagging. She nearly buckled, and gripped him tightly for balance. “No...please...not right now,” she begged. “They’ll kill you if they find you. Go. Find me later, when I’m truly alone and there is no one to disturb us. I will give you what you want then.”

“You swear it?” he asked in a raspy voice, startling her, yet he only paused the assault with his tongue as he spoke. “They can’t hurt me, but I would end up killing them all. Swear it, little chirping bird. Save their lives. Swear it and I will leave quietly.”

“Yes! I swear it. I will give it to you again, any time you’d like, when we have more time,” she pleaded. The villagers were only minutes away. She could hear them crashing through the woods, calling out her name.

“The deal is struck,” he said, abandoning his newly found treasure. Sansa collapsed backward, panting from want. “Your cunt is mine, and mine alone. Your name?”

“San...sa…” she said in between breaths.

“I am Sandor, and I will have you again,” he said before running off. The villagers crashed through mere moments later, lead by her father and his friend, Robert. Sansa had barely enough time to make it look like she had merely been scared and lost, instead of giving herself to the notorious Demon Of The Woods.

**********

It was a week later that she managed to convince her mother to let her out of the house. She had told her father and the villagers that she had heard a sound and that it startled her so much, that she had run and run until she was thoroughly lost.

“No one was after you?” her father had asked.

“No, father. There was no one. Only me and my shadow,” she said in shame. They assumed it was for being scared, but truthfully, it was because she had enjoyed herself so much. She had lain with a beast dog, a hellhound, and she had _enjoyed_ it. Even worse, she was trying to get away from her family to do it again. She wanted to feel Sandor inside her, to feel that good feeling again, to feel his great body pinning her down, grounding her into the earth as he pounded into her. She wanted to moan and cry out for him, to let him lick her all over as she ran her fingers through his fur. Her womanhood throbbed from want whenever she thought of him. Had he cast a spell on her? Had she been cursed to crave a monster’s touch? That is what a demon is, isn’t it? _‘He is a beast, but he spoke like a man, and he caused an innocent to have carnal cravings,’_ she thought as she tried to listen to the conversation at dinner, but had found herself thinking of him yet again. _‘He is a monster, but I want him.’_

Her parents refused to let her go anywhere alone. Her brothers complained, but they reluctantly agreed to accompany her wherever she went. She cursed her luck. ‘How will he find me alone if my brothers are always with me?!’

Her master, the seer Melisandre, asked her if she was alright when she was finally able to get back to her apprenticeship. She wanted to speak to someone about it, but one does _not_ just speak of these sorts of things. She told her she was well and returned to cataloging the herbs.

**********

A month had passed since her encounter, and her mother was beginning to loosen the reigns a bit, but not enough. Sansa physically ached to see Sandor again, but she never had a chance to go find him. She was getting desperate. She had touched herself every night since meeting him, trying to repeat the good feeling, but only being half-successful. In addition, she didn’t want him to think she was renegading on their deal. What if he attacked the entire village? Really, she was only trying to keep her people safe, and that was her main reason. Or so she kept telling herself. She was trying to think of a scheme to get herself into the woods alone, when the alarm rang through the village. She followed her mother and siblings to the village square. Her father and Robert, leaders of the village, were standing on a platform, looking grave, with Melisandre standing next to them. When all the people had gathered, her father held aloft his hands, calling for silence.

“People of Winterfell,” he said in a clear voice, “The seer has something she would like to say.” Melisandre stepped forward. She was not of the village, not originally. Her hair was bright red and she wore dark red clothing, marking herself as an outsider, though she had lived there for more years than anyone remembered.

“Good people, I stand before you, a witness to the gods, and to the inhuman creatures that walk this earth with us,” she said. “I have been given a warning from the Demon of the Woods. He had threatened to destroy our village, our homes, if his little bird is not returned to him.”

Her heart skipped a beat. _‘Little bird, little chirping bird,’_ she thought. _‘That’s what he called me.’_

“What? His little bird?” someone called out. It sounded like Fat Tom, but Sansa couldn’t be sure. “What’s that about?”

The seer cleared her throat. “I am not sure, but it seems that his pet bird was stolen and he wants it back. Further, he said that only a brave maiden of a pure heart would be able to find his bird and return it to him. He said that any that volunteer would be guaranteed safe passage to the caves he calls his home, and should not fear for their lives. He also said as many could volunteer as they wanted. Whoever aids him successfully will be richly rewarded as well. All others will receive a compensation for their efforts. Do we have any volunteers?”

“Hmpf, that leaves me out,” Arya whispered to her.

“Why’s that?”

“I’m brave and a maiden, but there’s no way I have a pure heart,” she said, grinning wolfishly. Sansa laughed lightly at that, but her heart was hammering in her chest. Did he mean her, when he said his little bird had gone missing? If he did, then she only had to volunteer and she would be given the freedom to seek him out. If it was an actual little bird, well, she still wanted to volunteer, just to see him again.

She was about to step forward when another girl beat her to it. _‘Margaery Tyrell,’_ Sansa thought. _‘Of course.’_ All the Tyrells were ambitious, and Margaery was the most ambitious of all of them. They would want the reward.

“I will volunteer,” she said boldly. The crowd murmured their shock.

Another girl stepped forward, or rather, she was shoved. Lollys Stokeworth. A kind girl, but a bit dull in the head. Sansa hadn’t spoken to her much, since Lollys was a few years older than Sansa and her mother kept Lollys practically under lock and key in their home. Her mother was ambitious, having used her other children to gain standing for the family through marriages, but she wasn’t willing to take risks herself and was now forcing her youngest daughter to follow through. “Lollys volunteers.”

Sansa fumed. At this rate, she’d never get to see Sandor again. She ignored the confused looks her family gave her and marched up to stand with Margaery and Lollys. “I volunteer,” she said in a voice that sounded braver than she felt. Her mother cried out, but fortunately, Robb and Jon held her back. Sansa’s father looked at her, grave as ever, and shook his head in disappointment. Sansa bit back the tears she felt, but did not waver.

“Are there any others willing to volunteer?” No one else stepped forward. “Then, go back to your homes and gather the supplies you’ll need for your quest. The demon’s caves are a long journey from here. Once you get there, he will tell you how to find his little bird.”

“Will we be given escorts?” squeaked Lollys.

“No,” Melisandre said sadly. Lollys looked like she was going to cry. “The demon has forbidden it. You must stick together. There is safety in numbers. Be safe, my children, for the woods are dark and full of terrors.”

Sansa gulped. She did know what she was doing, didn’t she?

**********

The seer saw the girls off. Sansa’s father had forbidden their families to go, lest they try to talk the girls out of it. Catelyn had nearly thrown a fit and Sansa was glad her father had made the declaration.

“Heed my warnings,” Melisandre said. “Keep to the path. Do not accept any offers from anyone you may meet without knowing what they want in return, but be kind to those who need your help. The path is long, and temptation will be great, but you are stronger together. You will be victorious if you remember my words.” She checked their packs, tightened their jackets around them, making sure their furs were sufficient for the cold, and gave them a motherly kiss on the cheek. “Safe travels, girls,” she said. “I will be praying for your return.”

To Sansa, she whispered, “Trust your judgement, your instincts, and you will reach your destiny.”

The first day of travel went well enough. Lollys refrained from actually crying the entire time, only letting out an odd sniffle now and then, and Margaery kept them entertained with stories. When night began to fall, the girls found a place to make camp in one of the many Traveler's Trees. The tree sat several feet above the ground, its roots forming a wall with just enough space to let people into the hollow base. If you were careful, you could make a small fire to help warm yourself on cold nights. Lollys begged Sansa to let her sleep next to her, while Margaery set up her bedroll on the other side of the space. Sansa agreed, knowing that it would help both of them to share their warmth. She only hoped that she didn’t have her usual dreams about Sandor and ended up doing something inappropriate to Lollys.

She drifted off into an uneasy sleep, something nagging at her brain, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what.

**********

She dreamed of Sandor, of grinding her hips down on his manhood and causing him to gasp as he had made her gasp. Only...Sandor sounded much more feminine than she remembered…

Sansa woke with a start. She was on top of Lollys, their legs joined together, the scent of their mutual arousal heavy in the air. Lollys was gasping, her eyes still closed and a smile on her lips. Sansa quickly disentangled herself from the other girl, her face flushed red from embarrassment and grateful that Lollys seemed to still be asleep. She only hoped that Margaery hadn’t seen or heard anything. She looked over to where Margaery’s bedroll had been but only saw empty space.

“That conniving little weasel!” she hissed. Lollys woke up at that.

“Oh, good morning, Sansa,” Lollys said, still smiling. “I had the most wonderful dream… Oh, what’s wrong?”

Sansa grimaced and pointed to where Margaery should have been. “It would seem that we have been abandoned.”

“What?!” Lollys looked around frantically. “No! She must have...gone to get some water. Or to make water. I’m sure…she wouldn’t leave us...”

Sansa shook her head. “She wouldn’t have taken all her things if that was the case,” she said sadly. Lollys began to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...what do you think? Like it? Hate it?


	2. Part 1, Chapter 2

They traveled for two days. Lollys cried a lot and Sansa would try to soothe her. They decided to combine their sleeping rolls to make a snuggly cocoon of warmth. When they slept, Lollys would hug Sansa’s waist and nuzzle her head to Sansa’s breast like a child. Or like a lover. It didn’t help the dreams, but at least they didn’t wake up entangled again.

On the fourth day since they left their village, they heard what sounded like a party. Music and laughter could be heard, and they followed the sounds. Soon, they came across a small clearing. There was a table, set with food and drink. On the other side of the clearing, there was a small pond and a quaint cottage. Instruments with no musicians were playing off to the side, a jaunty tune that made Sansa want to dance. Lollys held her hand tightly, scared, but even she was nodding her head in time to the music. A small man, a dwarf, was dancing by himself, jumping and leaping, having a grand old time as he held a wine goblet that nearly spilled on several occasions.

Sansa cleared her throat, gaining the dwarf’s attention. He looked at them in surprise, but a wave of his hand and the music stopped playing. He stared at them. One of his eyes was green, the other was black. Sansa felt very uncomfortable with his unblinking stare. “Hello,” he said finally, smiling at them. “Have you come to dine with me?”

“No,” Sansa said, “We were traveling in the woods and heard your music. I thought we heard more people as well, but I seem to be mistaken.”

“Oh,” the dwarf waved his hand dismissively. “You did. It’s just to try and get more people to come by. Would you like some food, some drink? I have plenty to share.”

Lollys nodded, but Sansa held her back. They had been rationing their provisions and both of them were hungry, but she remembered the seer’s words. “What do you want in return?”

The dwarf grinned. “If you accept, I want your maidenhead in return. I get very lonely out here.” Lollys gasped and hid behind Sansa. “Oh, but it would be enjoyable, I promise. You might even want to stay and be my wife, just so that I could fuck you every day to your heart’s content.”

Sansa felt dampness between her legs, but it wasn’t the dwarf’s manhood she was thinking of. _‘I must get to Sandor quickly.’_ Out loud, she said, “Then I am afraid we must decline. We cannot exchange so precious a gift for mere food and drink.”

The dwarf looked at in with great amusement. “Is that so?” She nodded with determination. “Well, I suppose there’s something else…”

She regarded him with suspicion. “We will not perform _any_ sexual acts for you.”

He laughed, a delighted twinkle in his eyes. “I figured as much. However, maybe you can carry a message for me instead. You see, I’m trapped in this place, have been for the past three years. My sister is a horrible witch and cursed me to stay here until I die. My brother, twin of my sister, has no idea what she’s done, and is probably worried about me. If you promise to carry a letter to him, I will be ever so grateful, and you can have as much to eat and drink as you want. You can even take some with you.”

Sansa looked at Lollys, then back to the dwarf. She nodded. “That we can do. Where can we find your brother?”

“First things first, have a seat and partake of the feast. I need to write the letter in the meantime. Oh, I’m Tyrion. A pleasure to meet you, though not the pleasure I had hoped for,” he said with a laugh.

Sansa gave him a strained smile. “I am Sansa. My companion is Lollys.”

“Oh, friends of Margaery?” he asked, pulling chairs out for them. They sat at the table and Lollys dug into the spread.

“She’s no friend of ours. She abandoned us a day into the journey,” Sansa said bitterly.

“Ah, well, she did seem a bit full of herself. She told me of your shared quest as we ate together,” Tyrion said, seating himself adjacent to her with a quill and parchment. Sansa’s hands stilled from putting food on her plate.

“Did she...did she take you up on your offer?” she asked in a soft voice. Surely Margaery had more sense than that. Lollys was enjoying her food too much to pay attention. Sansa didn’t want her hearing this anyway. Unlike Margaery or even Sansa, Lollys was a good girl, innocent to her very bones. She brought out a protective side of Sansa that she hadn’t known she had.

Tyrion chuckled. “She did. Jumped at the prospect when I showed her my goods. I bent her over that stump right over there,” he pointed to a tree stump near the musical instruments, “And fucked her until we had both had our fill. She spent the night, and let me have my way with her before bed, and again in the morning. Ah, but I should mention, I was not her first, nor will I be her last.” He shook his head. “That girl is no maiden, and her journey is in vain. The demon will not accept her help. Not that I informed her of this. She’ll make some others very happy along the way.”

Sansa nodded, feeling guilty that the news made her happy.

Once Tyrion had given her the three page letter, Sansa tucked it safely into her pack. "You'll find my brother with the demon. He works for him." Lollys had drifted off into a nap, and Sansa was curious about Tyrion’s story.

“How did you come to have such a nice place here if you are forbidden to leave the clearing?” she asked.

Tyrion looked at her in surprise. “Oh, the demon, he helped me. When I was first banished here, there was just that tree stump. He found me and tried to break the curse himself, but the only way to do so is if a woman falls in love with me and marries me. Love’s true kiss, the most powerful of magicks you know. Anyway, once he realized he couldn’t, he brought me supplies, entertainment, this table that magically makes feasts whenever I’m hungry, and preserves it until I’ve finished it all. He even made the pond for me, though he said it was so that I could bathe and not offend his heightened sense of smell.”

“But you said your brother works for him, why didn’t you have the demon tell him?” she asked.

“At the time, it had only been a few months. I thought that it would be better for Jaime to not know of the curse, that surely I could convince someone to stay with me. Now that so much time has passed, I no longer feel this way, but the demon has not been by in a very long time, probably won’t be back for a while. It is a large forest, and he rests when the snow comes. He likely thinks I am satisfied still with my place here. I don’t blame him, I was happy here for the longest time. You’d be surprised how many women come along this path. He may be a demon, but he is far kinder to me than my own sister.”

Sansa mulled over this as she waited for Lollys to wake.


	3. Part 1, Chapter 3

The next few days of the journey was relatively uneventful. Tyrion had told them that his brother Jaime was one of two guards to the demon’s lair, so it was not out of their way at all to deliver the message. She only briefly wondered what they would have had to do if Margaery had accepted this request instead of the initial one. She tried to not think about it, but she did wonder why Margaery would volunteer for something that required a maiden if she wasn’t one. Did she think the demon would not care? Or maybe not notice? It did little to think on it except to divert herself. 

Lollys was in higher spirits, at least, and had begun to pick flowers along the way. When they stopped to rest, she would place them in a book she had brought along to press them. 

“I want to remember the journey fondly, should we make it back alive,” Lollys said when Sansa asked her about it. They chatted a bit, learning more about each other as they went along. Lollys apparently felt very oppressed by her mother, though her father encouraged her to meet new people and have friends. She enjoyed a lot of household activities, especially cooking and sewing. “I’m not particularly creative, but I have a strong stitch so the clothes I make will last a while. Father keeps sheep and goats for me to shear, just so I can spin their fur and then weave it into a cloth. I’m very good at that,” she told Sansa. Sansa was impressed. She had never learned to weave or spin, and asked Lollys to teach her when they got back. Lollys happily agreed and held Sansa’s hand. “You’re much nicer than my sister,” Lollys told her one night as they snuggled together for warmth. “Falyse makes fun of me, tells me I’m too simple for my own good, and that I’ll be a maiden until I am a shrivelled old woman. She tells me I’m fat and stupid, like a cow, and that no man will ever want such a wife.”

Sansa shushed her and kissed her furrowed brow. “You will find a husband, Lollys. One that will make you happy and that you will love dearly.”

“You think so?” she asked in a small voice, wanting to believe her new friend.

“Yes. I will help you find one,” she promised, stroking Lollys’ hair until the older girl fell asleep.

They didn’t even try to catch up to Margaery. Lollys was too slow and Sansa would have had to leave her behind to do so, something she couldn’t bear to do. They kept a steady pace, Sansa leading Lollys along their path, holding her hand to make sure she didn’t fall behind.

**********

It was the eighth day of their journey when they came across a hot spring. Lollys squealed and clapped her hands with delight. “Can we, Sansa? Can we please? I feel so awful and disgusting,” she begged. Sansa had to agree, but she insisted that they check the surrounding area first.

No one was around, so Sansa consented to bathing in the hot springs. Lollys stripped quickly and sunk into the water before Sansa even had her jacket off. She moaned in delight as the filth of their journey was scrubbed from her body. Sansa laughed and joined her, bringing a small bar of soap to help. She washed Lollys’ hair after the older girl had scrubbed herself clean. “Will you scrub my back?” she asked Sansa timidly. “I couldn’t reach all of it.”

“Of course. Turn around,” Sansa said. She giggled as Lollys mewled from how nice it felt to have her back scrubbed. “You’ll have to scrub my back as well if you keep making noises like that,” Sansa said with a laugh.

“Oooohhh, she does make delightful noises, doesn’t she?” a voice asked.

Both Sansa and Lollys whirled around to face a smiling, bronzed woman who was just as naked as them. Her short black hair was wet and curling up as it dried. Steam was coming off her, and Sansa suspected that this was not a hot spring after all, that the warmth of the water was actually coming from this woman. She had no reason to think that, but she was fairly certain she was right. “Who are you?” she asked hesitantly.

“I am called Shae, pretty girls. And you would be?” the woman said, still smiling, but she floated closer to the other two. Lollys whimpered and hid behind Sansa, pressing her breasts into Sansa’s back and her hips flush against Sansa’s bottom. Shae was eyeing Lollys and Sansa the same way Tyrion had eyed them. Sansa gulped.

“I am Sansa. This is Lollys, my companion. I do apologize, we didn’t realize anyone else was here, or we would have not disturbed you,” she said, keeping a cautious eye on the woman.

Shae smiled brighter, “Oh, you’re not disturbing me. Not a bit.” She slipped through the water, her hand grasping Sansa’s hip and her mouth capturing her breast, her other hand snaking around Sansa to grasp Lollys’ breast. “I enjoy company of all sorts. Relax, enjoy the warm bath, and we can have some fun.”

Sansa gasped at the same time as Lollys as Shae massaged Lollys’s flesh and suckled on Sansa. The woman was assaulting her teats the same way Sandor had assaulted her womanhood, and she felt the familiar warmth flood between her legs, her skin tingling in memory of her demon’s touch.  _ ‘Sandor!’ _ she thought desperately, shoving the woman away from them. “No! If you want this in exchange for use of your hot springs, we cannot accept. I apologize for any confusion, but we cannot give you this. We will leave immediately.” 

Shae blinked in surprise. “Oh, forgive me, I thought...most people who come here want this. You two seemed very close, very cozy, I thought you might be lovers. You don’t need to leave. Please finish your bath. I won’t force anything on you that you do not wish. In fact, as an apology, I will give you knowledge. I mostly have sexual knowledge, but I will try to answer any questions you may have.”

Sansa studied the woman’s face. She seemed genuinely contrite, though the comment about her and Lollys being lovers was disquieting. Lollys was very attractive, but Sansa wasn’t attracted to women like that. “Alright, we accept your apology?” She turned to Lollys, who was looking calmer and nodded to Sansa. “We accept your apology,” Sansa said firmly. “And your offer to stay. Is there anything we can do in return?”

Shae shook her head. “I would like to enjoy you two pretty girls, but if you’re unwilling, it is no fun. Are you sure? I could teach you a few things, for your husbands.”

“We have no husbands yet,” Sansa said, though she wondered about that. She had been thinking about her agreement with the demon Sandor. The more she thought about it, the more it sounded like she had promised to be his forever, instead of just giving herself to him one more time. She was surprisingly fine with the idea.

“Oh! Then I can tell you how to please your future husbands, and how to minimize the discomfort of your first time.” Sansa bit her lip, remembering the pain of Sandor tearing her maidenhead. It was too late for that, though Lollys might benefit from such knowledge. She did want to know what to expect the next time, however.

“Yes, I think...I think that would helpful,” Sansa said, blushing. Lollys nodded enthusiastically. Shae grinned at them.

“First off, it helps if you touch yourself regularly. With permission, I can show you where on your bodies?” Shae asked.

Sansa blushed even more. “I...um...I know where to touch myself already.” She could feel Lollys watching her.

“I don’t know where, would you please show me?” Lollys asked politely. 

“Of course, pretty Lollys. Most important to know, communication is key. If you don’t like something, or you do like something, let your partner know,” Shae said. Sansa moved to the side. Shae purred as she slid closer to Lollys. She nuzzled the older girl’s neck. “Right here, on the neck, it is very sensitive, yes?” Lollys nodded, her mouth agape as her breathing quickened. “It is next most important to be excited before your husband takes your maidenhead,” Shae whispered against Lollys’ neck. She nipped at the girl’s skin, causing her to moan. Shae caressed her skin, following lines of Lollys’ body. She avoided touching Lollys’ breasts, scratching the skin underneath lightly. Lollys mewled like she had when Sansa had scrubbed her back, but it was throaty and more sexual. “Making noises like that is good, pretty Lollys. Only make the noises like that if you mean it. Never pretend. It is dishonest and you will not enjoy it.” Shae slid her hand down Lollys’ tummy. “Such nice curves on such a nice girl,” she murmured, moving down to take a nipple into her mouth. “And these teats, I could feast for days. I’m most jealous of your future husband.”

Sansa stared in awe as Lollys tilted her head back and opened her legs to Shae’s hand. The warmth in between her legs had returned and she shifted uneasily. Shae noticed. 

“Ah, pretty Sansa who knows how to touch herself,” Shae said with a coy grin, “touch yourself now. You are good friends, yes? Good friends can become great friends that share experiences like this.” 

Sansa nodded. Of course, it was so simple. She was good friends with Lollys, and she would love to be great friends with her. Sandor wouldn’t mind, would he? Maybe not if she thought of him as she touched herself. She watched Shae’s hand and mouth, and tried to mimic her movements as best she could, substituting her other hand for Shae’s mouth.

Shae stroked Lollys’ tummy, moving to her hips and back, her mouth suckling at one teat, then the other. Lollys was holding Shae’s head in place, stroking her hair and was thoroughly enjoying herself, as was Sansa. She imagined her hands as Sandor’s tongue and his paws. She could almost feel his hot breath on her skin. The wonderful feeling was building, stronger than she had felt on her own, though still not what she had felt with Sandor. 

“Move your fingers slowly, pretty girls, down between your legs. You feel a slit, yes? This is where you will join with your husband, where he will put his cock inside your cunt.” She was doing something to Lollys that Sansa couldn’t see, but she described it for both girls’ benefit. “Feel around, get used to to your cunt, know it it well. Only you can know how to make you feel good, and you must be able to convey this to your partner. At the top, there’s a small bud or pearl, this will be your clit. This is what you will play with to feel really good. Do not be too rough with it, nor let your partner be too rough. Gentle and steady, with pressured pulses. Yes, pretty girl, you like this?” she asked Lollys. Lollys nodded vigorously. Sansa nodded, too, hearing Sandor’s voice asking her. It was like a snake coiled inside her, a good, warm tight feeling that made her feel like she was about to bubble over.

“Yes, Miss Shae,” Lollys gasped. “I do. I feel very good.”

“Ooohh, I like being called Miss Shae,” she cooed. “Come for me, pretty Lollys. I want to hear your delight, I want to make you scream it to the mountains,” Shae said gleefully. Sansa imagined Sandor saying something similar to her in his raspy voice.  _ ‘Come for me, little bird,’ _ she could hear him say. The good, warm tension inside her exploded as she rubbed herself. She heard an ecstatic cry, followed almost immediately by a second and then a third. She slumped against the rocks lining the hot spring, breathing heavily and feeling wonderfully languid and relaxed. She looked over at the other two females. Shae had her head on Lollys’ breast, but she was calmer than before. Lollys looked like she had passed out, but she was smiling.

“Is this what you meant by ‘having fun’?” Sansa asked Shae.

Shae shook her head. “No. This was merely a demonstration to help you in the future. ‘Having fun’ would have been more...vigorous. More thrusting would be involved.”

“Thrusting?” Sansa asked, unable to help herself.

Shae nodded and held up her hand. Her fingers morphed and grew until they became elongated and looked like what Sandor’s manhood had felt like. “I am a water nymph,” Shae explained, “I can change my shape easily. I prefer being fucked to fucking, but I enjoy both. I can also control any water that I am in. If you wished it, I could make a cock for you to use and place it on one of the rocks.”

Sansa sighed. “What is it with everyone we meet and them wanting to get into our skirts? Next thing you’ll tell me is that a girl named Margaery came by and let you...use that on her.” She gestured to the phallic shape of Shae’s hand.

Shae looked at her in surprise. “Actually, that  _ did _ happen. Though she insisted I have it where a man would have it. She liked being fucked by a woman with a cock. Made me do it multiple times. I had no objections. You know her?”

“Of course she did…” Sansa said in defeat, “and yes, she is from our village. We are all supposed to be on a quest together, but she left us behind. How long ago did she visit you?”

Shae lay her head on Lollys’ breast. “Yesterday. She did not stay long after the sex. I have no shelter here for her, so she was not interested in staying longer.” She watched Sansa for a few moments. “Who else have you met that wished to fuck you?”

“A dwarf named Tyrion. He’s cursed to stay in a clearing a few days walk from here. He said he gets lonely, so whenever he has female guests, he offers them food, drink and shelter in exchange for sex. He makes the exchange worth their while, it seems, so that they might come back and have sex with them again, or so that they want to stay to become his wife.” Sansa shrugged. “We chose an alternate in exchange for food and drink. We did not stay with him, however, as he only has the one bed.”

“Ooooohhh, he sounds interesting. Is there a good water source nearby?” 

Sansa nodded. “Next to his house, in fact. Why?”

Shae smirked at her. “I have not had a good fucking in a while. I may pay him a visit.”

“Oh.” Sansa blushed as the image of the lovely Shae with the dwarf fucking her over the tree stump sprang into her mind. She had a feeling Shae would like doing that. “Well, it’s in that direction. There’s a large elm tree very close by the clearing, and you can see it from here.”

Shae looked to where Sansa pointed. “Oh, that’s where the demon king told me I should go. He said there was a better water source over there. He said I would prefer it over being lonely here.”

Sansa said in surprise, “He did?”

Shae nodded. “Yes. I wondered about it, and told him I would try to go, but I was tired and in the end, I just stayed here. He did not mention there was a man there.”

“I suppose he wanted you to find out for yourself,” Sansa said helpfully. 

“Bah! He should have just said so,” Shae said. “He is a good person, for a demon, but he needs to learn when to say something and when to stay silent. This was a time to say something! Good thing you told me.”

Sansa nodded in agreement.


	4. Part 1, Chapter 4

They left the hot spring, wishing Shae the best of luck with Tyrion, and continued on their journey. Lollys didn't mention what had happened at the hot spring, but every night when they cuddled for warmth, she settled into Sansa's embrace and when they woke up in the morning with entangled legs, neither became embarrassed and just said “good morning” to each other. 

A day before they would reach the caves, they came across a small hut in the woods, on the far end of a large field of wildflowers. Smoke was drifting skyward from the chimney. Sansa felt a pang, desiring the warmth of an indoor fireplace. The air was getting colder the closer they got to the caves.

“Oh! Maybe it’s a woodcutter and his family,” Lollys said hopefully. She really hated sleeping on the ground, but had kept the complaints to a minimum. Sansa wasn’t so sure.

“Stay here,” she told Lollys. “You can see the front door from here. If anything happens to me, stay hidden until it’s safe, and then run away. Run back to the village, and tell them what happened. Got that?”

“What?? What could happen to you?! It’s just a woodcutter’s cottage!!” Lollys was getting hysterical. Sansa petted her head in a soothing manner. Clearly the girl was confused, if she called such a small home a cottage.

“We don’t know that, dearheart. I’m sure I’m just being overprotective, but better to be safe than sorry. I’ll whistle if it’s safe for you to come.” She kissed Lollys on the forehead. She really had grown attached to the simple, sweet girl these past several days and didn’t want her to get hurt. “Now, stay here and be as quiet as a mouse. If you are a good girl, I’ll reward you with hairbrushing and hugs, alright?” Lollys very much loved having her hair brushed. Second to that was snuggling, or hugging.

“Alright, I’ll be good,” Lollys said, sniffling a little and settling down behind some leafy ferns.

“Good girl,” Sansa said with a smile and kissed Lollys again before heading to the hut.

**********

It took her twenty minutes to reach the hut. She cast a cautious look around, sneaking a peek at Lollys’ hiding place. She couldn’t see the girl, but that was the point and she knew Lollys would stay put. Gathering her courage, she raised her fist and rapped a knock on the door. She heard a muffled, “The fuck?” from inside and soon the door opened. A disheveled man answered the door. He was handsome, in a very roguish way, almost catlike in his movements. _‘Not a house cat,’_ Sansa decided. _‘More like a wild cat, maybe a panther.’_ He looked her up and down appreciatively, making her bristle with indignation.

“Evening, love,” he said with a drawl and a smile. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit? Are you looking for a husband? Please tell me you’re looking for a husband.” His smile grew brighter and he licked his lips suggestively. Sansa was unimpressed.

“My husband would not appreciate your tone, good sir,” she said, her voice filled with venom.  _ ‘A small fib. Only a husband can claim my maidenhead, and Sandor claimed it, therefore, he is my husband. In a way. More or less.’ _ It was convoluted reasoning, and she knew it, but it made it easier to keep a straight face.

“Oh? And where is your honorable husband that he would leave you to approach my home alone?” the man said with a grin.

“I am on a quest, one that only a woman can do,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “I’m journeying to the Demon Caves, to return something the demon lost. If I don’t, my entire village will be destroyed.”

The man’s expression changed. “Oh...you’re going to return the lost bird then?”

“You know of it?” She was suspicious. 

“Aye, I know of it.” The man shook his head, wearing the same grave look her father had worn when she left the village. “I also know only a maiden can return it. The demon was strict in that. You said you were married.” He looked her over once again. “Your husband would have to be blind, deaf and dumb to leave you a maiden.”

She blushed hotly, but said, “That is beside the point. I will journey to the caves regardless.”

The man stared at her, studying her carefully. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers and pointed at her, a smile back on his face. “You must be Sansa. You’re traveling with another girl, oh, what was the name? Laurel, Luna, no, Lollys!”

She took a step back from him, fear coursing through her again, her flight instinct kicking in.

“Oh, wait, don’t be frightened! Margaery told me,” he said, holding his hand out to her in peace. She paused, though her pulse was still racing.

“Margaery? She’s been here?”

The man nodded. “This is the quickest path to the demon’s cave. Please, come in. I can give you shelter for the night. I’m sure you’ll be just as eager for the fire as Margaery was. I promise, I won’t hurt you.” 

She studied the man’s face. She couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. Arya would have known, but she had opted to stay behind in the village. She had lent Sansa her best dagger and shown her where to aim in order to kill someone. “Only as a last resort,” Arya had said. “Only if they’re about to kill you.”

The sky were darkening and Sansa didn’t want to camp out in the snow. She nodded and whistled, the sound carrying across the frigid air. 

“Come on inside while we wait for your friend. I’ll leave the door open,” he said. She entered the hut, and was surprised to find it larger on the inside. What she had thought was a one room hut was actually a spacious cottage. She could see a hallway leading to more rooms.

“Wha--”

“Oh, right, it’s magic,” the man said. “Only a few people can see past the enchantment once they enter. By the way, my name is Bronn. Please to meet you, Sansa.” He offered his hand. She shook it numbly as she continued to stare at her surroundings. He chuckled and gently guided her over to the kitchen table, seating her at the far end. He busied himself, boiling water for tea and finding refreshments. 

By the time he had everything ready, Lollys had entered the cottage. She closed the door behind her and exclaimed, “What a lovely home you have! I especially love the decor on the outside.” It was then that Sansa remembered Lollys calling the hut a cottage, and wondered what type of person you had to be in order to see past the enchantment on the outside.

Bronn grinned at her. “Thank you, my dear. You are Lollys, yes?” She nodded. “Welcome to my humble abode. I am Bronn.” Lollys curtsied and blushed. Sansa smiled, and watched Bronn’s attention to Lollys in amusement. The older girl smiled and blushed prettily for the man, who entertained them both and got Lollys talking more than Sansa had ever seen before. She had learned that Lollys had a lot to say, but often refrained from sharing her ideas with anyone, even Sansa, whom Lollys now called her best friend.

Lollys was one of the eldest maidens in the village. She was pretty, but few were interested in her as a wife. She was the sixth child, the second daughter, of Mr. and Mrs. Stokeworth and her inheritance and dowry would be pittance for any man who married her. In addition to that, Lollys was slow and a bit dim-witted. Most of the men could deal with that, if more came with her. Sansa had heard her mother speaking to the other women about Lollys once. “Nearly on the shelf, poor girl,” they had said. Which was a shame, in Sansa’s opinion. Lollys may be slow, but she wasn’t stupid or insipid. She might be a bit dim, but she was easy to please, and she gave her whole self to a person. She was a sweet girl, kind. She was a good cook, even while traveling in these condition, able to make a snare to catch winter rabbits so that she and Sansa wouldn’t starve once their provisions had run out a few days ago. She would make an excellent wife to a patient man. She also had an excellent figure, underneath the dowdy clothing her mother dressed her in. Sansa had been surprised when they first had snuggled in the night, feeling Lollys hips (“good birthing hips,” Old Nan would have called them), her waist that was thick yet was in proportion to the rest of her, and her large breasts pressed against her own body for warmth. Granted, she had seen those breasts as well back with Shae. All of these physical attributes would have gained her a husband easily, if her mother didn’t dress her like a potato sack. It made Sansa wonder if Mrs. Stokeworth really did want her daughter out of the house.

When Bronn offered to make them dinner, Lollys refused, and insisted that she do it. “You have been so hospitable to us, and we have nothing in return. Please, let me cook for you, as a way of repayment.” Bronn looked her up and down, the same way he had looked at Sansa, but slower and licked his lips far more. Sansa could practically see his thoughts, knew he wanted to say that there were other ways Lollys could repay him for his kindness, but he didn’t. He gave her the “two-copper tour” of his kitchen, and Lollys happily set to work. Bronn sat at the table with Sansa.

“She’s a maiden if she’s on this journey with you, meaning she’s not married,” he said quietly, “but is she promised to anyone back at your village?”

Sansa considered him for a moment. He was still watching Lollys. “No,” she said. “Most people can’t see her good qualities. They see only what’s on the surface and dismiss her for it.” 

“Shame that is. Seems like a good girl. Ah, are her parents not looking for a husband for her? Trying to keep someone around to nurse them in their old age?” he asked, still not taking his eyes off of Lollys.

“I don’t think so, but I’ve never talked to them about it.” Sansa was silent for several moments. “Are you interested?”

“Me?” he asked in surprise. “Well, I wouldn’t say no, but I live in the middle of nowhere, only a day away from the home of a monster. She wouldn’t want to live here.”

“Would you keep her safe?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Would you be patient, kind and loving towards her?” She was being nosy. It wasn’t very ladylike, but Bronn didn’t seem to notice.

“Of course. I’d love her as many times a day as she wanted,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t care if she can’t even really cook. She can see the beauty of my home, even through the enchantments outside. That means something.”

“What does it mean?” She really was curious.

“It means she’s got a good heart. Better than anyone else. I’ve known hundreds of people in my life, and most of which would see this place as a burnt down shack. I’ve always known I wanted a good, kind woman as my wife. Now I’ve found one, but...like I said, middle of nowhere.”

“She seems to like it here, for what it’s worth. Tell you what, once we’re done with the demon, we’ll be heading back this way. We’ll stop here and you can ask her to stay with you. If she says yes, then you can come back with us to speak to her parents. If she says no, then at least you won’t have to see her again after that.”

“You make a good argument. It’s a deal,” he said with a chuckle. “Too bad you’re both maidens. We could have had some fun before bed. Been awhile since I had a threesome.”

Sansa choked on her tea. She sputtered, “Excuse me?”

Bronn laughed and clapped her on the back. “What? Never heard of it? It’s fun. Even when it’s two guys and one girl. Your friend Margaery was more than happy to share my bed. Granted, she could only see a rundown shack, but still.”

“You had sex with Margaery?!” Sansa exclaimed in hushed tones. “But now you want Lollys?”

Bronn looked over at Lollys, a sad look on his face. “Honestly, if I had met Lollys first, I would have told Margaery to take the bed and then slept elsewhere. I do regret that now. Think she’d still want to stay with me if she knew?”

Sansa thought about it. “Lollys is a forgiving person. As long as you don’t cheat on her, she won’t be turned off by your previous encounters, but… maybe not mention it? Unless she asks.”

Bronn gave her a warm smile. “Well, then I will wait your return with hope.”

They spoke of various things as they watched Lollys cook. Sansa hoped she did it in a subtle enough manner and slowly brought the conversation back to Sandor.

“The demon… He’s...he’s a curious one,” Bronn said.

“What do you mean?”

Bronn laughed to himself, “Well, he was the one who gave me the enchantment for my home. Gave me this land, actually. The entire woods is under his domain. I came here on a job. Some rich bloke paid me a small fortune to steal the demon’s most treasured possession. Trouble is, this demon isn’t like dragons or mountain dwarves, and doesn’t care a whit about the sort of thing most humans care about. His most treasured possession was a baby blanket. I couldn’t go back empty handed, but I couldn’t take the blanket either. While I was standing there, trying to figure it out, the demon comes up behind me, quiet fucker he is, and knocks me out. When I came to, I’m hanging by my ankles over a dark pit and the demon is just sitting there, staring at me. He asked me why I wanted the blanket and I told him I didn’t, that I was ordered to take his most treasured possession, but that it was assumed it would be precious gems and metals. He snorted that he had no use for such trinkets. He stared at me for a good long while, then told me that if I promised to serve him, he would grant me my heart’s desire. I made a crack about rubies and gold, but he shook his head and said, ‘No, your  _ true _ heart’s desire.’ Took me a moment and a half, but I vowed to be in his service until he released me or I died.”

“So you’ve been serving him this entire time?”

“What? Oh, no, he released me from it a year later. We had become friends by then, and he said he refused to make a friend have a vow of service. I still do favors for him now and then, but as a friend. He does the same for me.”

“What happened to your boss? Wasn’t he upset that you never came back?”

Bronn slapped his knee as he laughed. “Oh, was he ever! Actually came looking for me. I gave him back the payment, but he just threw it at my head and demanded I take him to the demon’s treasure. So I did. This was before the guards were hired. Didn’t tell him the demon happened to be in the same room as said treasure. Left him there to get to know him. Haven’t seen Lord Baelish since. Good riddance, I say.”

“You don’t call him by his name? The demon I mean.”

Bronn nodded. “Few know his true name. He prefers it that way. If I’m not around others who know it, I don’t mention it.”

“You’re very loyal to him,” she noted.

“I’d say it’s because he pays me to be, but those days are sadly over,” Bronn said with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sexy times, but fluff is good, too. :)


	5. Part 1, Chapter 5

The next morning, they left Bronn with a smile on his face. He kissed Lollys on the forehead, telling her he hoped to see her again soon. Sansa smiled as Lollys blushed and said she looked forward to cooking for him again.

Bronn told them they would reach the caves by evening, as long as they didn’t stop for too long. “Just follow the path. You’ll know it by the two sentries standing outside the cave entrance. They'll have a place for you to sleep before meeting with the demon.”

They were so close to their goal, even Lollys agreed to limit their breaks and they managed to reach the caves an hour before sunset. The two sentries stood on either side of the cave entrance, two blonds, one very pretty and the other rather drab. She wasn't sure if they were men or women. 

“Good evening!” the pretty one called out. “Are you here to see the demon?”

“Of  _ course _ they're here to see the demon,” the drab one said. Sansa took notice of the brilliant blue eyes that one had. It was such a contrast from the rest of the face. 

“Hey, you never know. Doesn't hurt to ask.” This one had green eyes. Not as brilliant as the other one’s blue eyes, but it was hard to compete with those. 

The blue eyed one rolled their eyes. “We are in the middle of nowhere, the only reason they could be here is the demon.”

The green eyed one waved his hand in a familiar dismissive manner. “Fine, fine. I was just trying to make conversation anyway. Alright, so here are the rules. In order to pass through to see the demon, you have to guess which one of us is a man and which one is a woman.”

Blue Eyes chimed in, “You'll be able to pass either way, but if you get it wrong, then you have to take the long path into the cave, and that path is filled with pitfalls and temptation. You're likely to end up spending the rest of your life down there. Take as much time as you need. We have lodgings for visitors if you'd like to wait until tomorrow morning.”

“Are there any other rules we need to know?” Sansa asked. It seemed like there should be more.

Blue Eyes smiled, showing some crooked teeth, but it was charming instead of deterring. “Yes. First, you are allowed to ask questions, though we may decide not to answer. Second, you are allowed to visually inspect us, but you are not allowed to touch us and we are not obligated to show you anything. Third, you only get one guess between the two of you. Do you have any questions about this?”

Sansa looked to Lollys who seemed quite confused about it all. “Um, yes, actually. Did a girl named Margaery pass your test?”

One of Green Eyes eyebrows arched up. “No, actually. She is currently on the long path. She's been stuck there for the past two days. We've been keeping an eye on her, but we're not allowed to help her escape it.”

“Oh,” Sansa said. Margaery may have abandoned them, and proven herself of lesser morals than everyone back home thought she had, but she was one of them. “Am I allowed to rescue her?”

Both of Green Eyes eyebrows shot up. “You want to rescue her?”

“Yes. She… We're not friends, but she is from our village. I wouldn't be able to face anyone back home if I didn't at least try to help her.” She looked at Lollys again, who was nodding in agreement. 

Green Eyes conferred with Blue Eyes. After a few minutes of discussion, Blue Eyes said, “You will have to ask the Master. We do not have the authority to give you an answer.”

“Alright. That seems fair. It is his home, after all,” Sansa said. She studied the two sentries.  _ ‘Tyrion called them guards...Tyrion! His brother is one of these people. That means… _ She looked at the two, and remembered thinking that one of Green Eyes gestures seemed familiar.  _ Tyrion had one black eye...and one green. Neither of them have black eyes, so it must be Green Eyes. In addition, he has similar mannerisms, and the golden hair, as opposed to the light blonde hair of Blue Eyes. Blue Eyes has more masculine features but there is also a slight curve to the hips, a feminine attribute. Green Eyes must be Jaime, and Blue Eyes must be the woman! _

Sansa dug the letter out of her pack and handed it to Lollys. The older girl looked at her in surprise. “Who do you think it is, my dear?” Sansa asked her. 

Lollys looked at the two sentries. “The one on the right is the man, the one on the left is the woman.” 

“Why do you think that?”

“Because he's Tyrion's brother. He looks like him. Don't you think? And the other one is clearly a woman, though not your traditional female. She's pretty though, in her own way,” Lollys said, looking at her in appreciation.

Sansa smiled and kissed Lollys on the cheek. “You clever minx. Go on, go give the letter to him. He'll be pleased to have it, I expect.”

Lollys nodded and the two girls walked over to Jaime. “You have decided,” he said. It wasn't a question. 

“Yes. Lollys has decided and I agree with her assessment,” Sansa said, pushing her friend forward. 

Lollys held the letter up to him. “You are a man.” 

Jaime snorted. “And what makes you say that?”

“Because you are Jaime, Tyrion's brother,” she said. Jaime's eyes went wide and he looked down at the paper in her hand. 

“You...you know Tyrion?” Jaime asked softly. 

Sansa thought her heart might break at the sadness and hope in his voice. “Yes,” she said. “We met him on our way here. He has been cursed and cannot leave the place he calls home. He asked us to bring you this letter.” 

“Cursed?!” Sansa nodded. “It must have been Cersei,” Jaime said, his voice tight with anger. The woman left her post to comfort Jaime, placing a kind hand on his shoulder. “Did you hear, wench? My  _ dear, anguished _ sister has cursed my baby brother. When I get my hands on her--”

The woman kissed Jaime, calming him for the moment. “Rejoice that you found him, my love. We will see Cersei punished later.”

Jaime nodded. Then noticed they were not alone. “Oh, this is my wench. I mean, wife,” he said, ducking to avoid a punch. 

“Brienne,” she said, shoving Jaime and offering her hand to the girls. He grabbed the letter before tumbling off to the side. 

“I'm Sansa, and this is Lollys,” she said. “So does this mean we passed?”

“Yes,” Brienne said. “Would you like to rest before you see our Master?”

“No,” Lollys said. “Margaery needs to be rescued, and we can’t even begin to try until we see...um...your Master. We should see him as soon as possible.” Sansa smiled at Lollys. The girl was growing up.

“At least refresh yourself. I have some tea, or juice, assuming Jaime hasn’t drunk it all again.” 

“Well, I am a bit thirsty,” Sansa said. They had been walking for so long.

“Excellent, come with me,” Brienne said with a cheerful smile

“How did you come to be in a demon’s employ?” Sansa asked.

“Well, it actually has to do with Tyrion’s disappearance,” Brienne said, getting some cups from the cupboard. “Jaime hired me to be his bodyguard. He had been in an accident and was still recuperating from it. We followed the trail to the Master. He said he knew where Tyrion was, but that he had been sworn to secrecy. Jaime came by every day, pleading with the Master, but to no avail. Finally, he told Jaime that he was sworn to secrecy, but that if Jaime became a guard to his cave, he would ask Tyrion again if he still wanted to stay hidden, but that he would only ask when he was supposed to be in that area of the woods, and not sooner. I stayed with Jaime, since he was still injured. The Master gave us a house, clothing, food, anything we needed. We...we ended up falling in love. More or less," she said with a grin. "And I became his wife last year. The Master's last tour of the woods was cut short, however, something happened, and when he came back, he was muttering something about a little bird that he lost. The Master swore he would go straight to Tyrion once he regained his pet, assuring us that Tyrion was fine, but then he started talking about how he would have figure out a way for his pet to return to him. He wasn’t making a lot of sense, but hopefully he’ll be able to tell you more than he told us.”

Sansa couldn’t say anything and sipped her water, deep in thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One the one hand, if Sansa had never run into the Demon, Tyrion would probably be reunited with his brother already. On the other hand, Shae would probably never have gotten over to Tyrion's clearing, so...it worked out for the best? :D


	6. Part 1, Chapter 6

Brienne told them that the cave entrance they guarded was actually the entrance to the long path. The entrance to the short path was in their home, which stood to the side of the cave. Jaime had stayed at the cave entrance, reading Tyrion’s letter, while Brienne gave them refreshments. 

“It will only take a few minutes to reach the receiving hall. There is a white cord next to the doorway you enter. Pull it, and the bells will chime, signalling your arrival to the Master,” she told them. “Good luck.”

Holding hands, Sansa and Lollys walked to the receiving hall. They stood in the doorway and looked at the large room. There were long tables with benches tucked underneath them, but it was obvious the tables had not been used in a very long time. There were lamps along the walls, but only the ones on the far end were lit, illuminating the raised platform where a lone chair sat. In front of the chair was Sandor, curled up asleep. Sansa could hear soft snores coming from him. She wanted to rush to him, but Brienne had said there was protocol to follow.

Lollys was closer to the cord Brienne had told them about. She pulled it hesitantly, and a barrage of soft chimes filled the air. The hellhound raised his head, opening a sleepy eye. Sansa wondered if he could see them at all, considering how much darkness they were shrouded in. He made a show of sniffing the air, and his body became visibly tense. Getting to his feet, he bounded down to the floor and padded across the hall, his footsteps causing slight trembles throughout the surroundings. He seemed to grow in size with every step he took towards them, until he was four times her height. His scars seemed more twisted and gnarled than before, but she was starting to believe that he had made them so on purpose. Sansa slipped behind Lollys, but held onto her hand.

“Who dares to disturb my slumber?” he growled.

Lollys squeaked, but Sansa did not let go of her hand. She whispered in the other girl’s ear, “Tell him your name and that you bring him his little bird.”

“What? But I don’t...we don’t…” Lollys stammered.

“Trust me,” Sansa pressed.

“I...I am Lollys Stokeworth,” she said in a meek voice, “and I bring you what you lost, your little bird.”

The great hellhound stared down at Lollys. “What do you know of my little bird?”

Sansa whispered in her ear, and Lollys repeated, “I know that she has missed you greatly, and that she is sorry that she could not return to your side sooner. She has traveled a long distance, learning about the world you live in, learning about who you are, your true character. She is ready to be with you, if you truly wish to have her. She fears that you only want her because she was taken from you, but she hopes that you are thinking more long term.”

The hellhound blinked, shocked by Lollys’ words, and gaining some understanding. “I have missed her greatly as well. I wish her to stay with me for as long as she is happy to stay. She would not be a prisoner here, but a beloved… she would be beloved.”

“Do you wish her to be your wife?” Lollys asked, still repeating Sansa’s words.

Neither girl had ever thought they would see a nervous demon, but that was what was in front of them. “If...if it is acceptable to her, then yes...I do wish that,” he muttered. “I have seen her kindness, her big heart, and I have watched her in my viewing glass every day since I parted from her. My interest was purely...physical, at first, but I have come to know her better, as she has come to know me, and I wish for more. Tell me, where is she? Is she not with you?”

Lollys stammered, “I...she…”

“I am here,” Sansa said, stepping from behind Lollys, her heart pounding in her chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut is next chapter. Will be posted in Monday 9/12/16.


	7. Part 1, Chapter 7

Sansa stared at the great beast, her hellhound, her Sandor. Lollys was still holding her hand, trembling from fear. Sansa turned to her friend, “Lollys, dear, go back to Brienne.”

“I can't leave you alone with a demon!” she exclaimed. “He might try to do something to you! And we still need to find his bird!”

Sansa laughed. “My dear, you have just completed the task that was set for us. I am his little bird.”

Lollys’ eyes went wide. “You? Truly?”

“Yes, dear heart, now go back to Brienne. I must speak with my demon alone.” She gently pushed Lollys back down the hallway and waited until the girl was out of sight to turn back to Sandor.

“I wondered why I could smell you but couldn't see you,” he grumbled. “You hid behind her. No small feat, considering the height difference.” He was shrinking back to the size he had when she had first met him.

“My back is a bit sore from having to stoop so long,” she admitted. “Did you mean what you said?”

“I did. I don't lie,” he growled as he shoved his face to her chest, nuzzling her. “Did you mean what you had the slowpoke say?”

“I did,” she whispered, stroking his ears.

“Kiss me and become my wife,” he said. “Make me believe that you mean it.”

She took his head in her hands, “As you wish,” and gave him a soft kiss on his scars, smiling as she did so. A darkness surrounded him like a cloud, swirling around him, tearing at them both like harpy claws. “Sandor!?”

“Let go, little bird,” he said, pushing a paw into her stomach. “It won't hurt you if you let me go.”

“But it will continue to hurt you?” she demanded.

“Yes.”

She clung to him, undoing her jacket and wrapping him in it as best she could. The dark wind howled and shrieked, becoming stronger. It felt like a hundred knives becoming a thousand, ripping at them both.

“Let go, little bird! I will survive this, you will not!” he screamed over the wind.

She clung tighter to him. _‘I said I would be with you as your wife,’_ she thought, _‘I have traveled for so long. I have fought to return to your side. I could have allowed another to take your place in my bed, turned back at any moment, never volunteered to begin with, let the villagers capture you the night I gave myself to you, but I didn't. I didn't do any of those things. How can I abandon you now just to save myself? How can you think that I would ever entertain such a thought?’_

There was the sound of shattering glass and the dark wind ceased suddenly, leaving only a ringing in her ears. “What happened?” she asked, looking around. “What was that?”

“That,” he said, standing up on two legs, “was a curse breaking.” Her arms were still around his neck, and he lifted her easily from the ground to keep her in place. She was tall. He was even taller.

“You're human…” she said dumbly. She looked down and then back up at his face. “And naked.”

He quirked his good eyebrow up, his face was still scarred, but she didn't mind. It was odd to think of him without the scars. “You're observant.” He looked down at her clothing. “And overdressed. Come with me, wife,” he said, gathering her up and carrying her in his arms out of the receiving hall. Candles lit themselves as they approached and died after they had passed, keeping them shrouded in soft, warm light.

Sandor said nothing, so Sansa used the time to study her husband. He was not handsome the way Jaime or Bronn was, but she found his face pleasing to look upon. He had very kissable lips, for starters, though part of them were scarred like that half of his face. He had a hooked nose that made him seem more imposing. She wanted to kiss it from bridge to tip until he smiled. His eyes, grey and stormy, were windows to his mind. She could see he was nervous.  He had broad shoulders, muscular, and he must have been strong all over since carrying her seemed akin to carrying a pillow. His hair was long and black as a moonless night, much like his fur had been, covering his scars when he tilted his head forward. She brushed it aside in defiance. She wanted to see all of him, but this would do for now. He flinched, but allowed her to look. The scars extended around his head, to just past where his ear would have been, falling to his collarbone and part of his shoulder. _‘It must have been terribly painful,’_ she thought again. She wished she could soothe the past hurt, but all she could do was make sure none hurt him ever again.

“Had your fill yet, little bird?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Never. I will look upon you and memorize your features so that I may gaze upon your visage in my mind's eye. Even when you are not in my sight, I will be able to indulge in you.”

He laughed, half in amusement, half with a bitter twinge. “As you say. We are here.” He kicked open a door and walked inside. The room was dimly lit by a dying fireplace, and there were no windows, but the room was quite cozy. His bedroom, if she hazarded a guess. He set her on her feet next to a bed and it was then that she noticed his engorged manhood. She thought she had felt something poking her on the way over to the room. “I don’t think I can go slow or be gentle, but if you tell me to stop, I will.”

She tilted her head, a small smile on her face. “I trust you, Sandor.”

“Do you miss my dog form?” he asked, stooping to remove her shoes. “I do. Rather liked seeing a helpless little bird beneath me, begging for my cock.” He grinned up at her, twisting his scars into what should have been gruesome and terrifying, except she wasn’t afraid of him any longer. He had invoked the memory of that frightening, then wonderful, night that felt like it happened so long ago. She felt the familiar warmth and wetness grow between her legs. How many times had she dreamt of seeing him again, of being with him again? Too many times, and now here he was.

“I will accept you no matter the form you choose to use,” she said, “I will stay by your side, be the shoulder you lean on, the ear to your troubles and your accomplishments, the keeper of your secrets, and the mother to your children. For as long as I shall live.”

“Sounds like a vow to me,” Sandor said, removing her jacket and tossing it aside. He loosened the laces on her dress. “You’re already my wife. I claimed you the night in the woods, made you mine. If you hadn’t come to me, I would have come for you and forcibly taken you.”

“You cannot steal what is willingly yours,” she said, turning so he could strip her of her dress. “I would have come peaceably. I had hoped you would come for me, since I wasn’t able to find a way to slip away from my family. Though, at the time, I was thinking only of a physical relationship with you. To be filled by you,” she purred, pressing up against him still dressed in her winter shift and wool socks, “to feel you above me,” she kicked off the socks, “to feel you around me,” she peeled off the shift, and pulled down her undergarments, “I was cold and you warmed me.”

She took his hand as she walked backward the few steps to the bed. “You’re not as innocent as the girl I first met,” he said with a smirk.

“What can I say? I was seduced by a demon,” she grinned, laying back on the bed and scooting to the center. “I am no longer as pure as freshly fallen snow. How could I be?”

“Still far more innocent than most people I’ve met.” He climbed on top of her. “If your innocence is like snow, then I would say it’s more like fresh snow that has pawprints walking through it.” He leaned down to press his lips roughly against hers. She opened her mouth, letting his tongue invade and enjoying the rough texture. He snapped his fingers and the fireplace disappeared, the walls, the sparse furniture, everything but the bed was gone and they were in the middle of the the forest, in late autumn, bathed in moonlight. Just like the first time.

“Wha-- How did you do that?” she asked, startled.

“It's an illusion. I'm a Mage, first and foremost, even before I was cursed.” He dipped a finger down into her, and was pleased to find her wet. “So ready, little bird? You really did miss me then.”

She gasped when he plunged into her suddenly. It was a welcome intrusion, but an intrusion nonetheless.

“Fuck, still so fucking tight,” he moaned, “you'll tell me if I hurt you. You'll tell me to stop.” He was begging, she realized.

She nodded. “Yes...I'll tell you.”

He grunted approval and started to move, slowly at first, but quickly gaining momentum and speed. Sansa encouraged him with her body, squeezing her thighs against his sides, locking her ankles behind his back, gripping his shoulders and making her pleasure vocal. “Tell me…” he panted, “tell me you missed me. Tell me you want me…”

Sansa almost didn't comprehend his words, she was enjoying how he was making her feel so much, but she saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Yes, I want you,” she murmured, “since you took my maidenhead… No, before that, I wanted you physically, when you licked at my core, my,” she struggled to say the next few words, “my cunt, my clit… You woke something in me. I traveled so far to find you again, learned about you in the process, and I want you. I want you so much, body, mind and soul. I missed you every day, every night, since we parted. I ached to have you near me again, I physically _ached._ Emotionally _ached._ I just wanted to be with you-- oh gods… Sandor… I'm… I'm about to…”

“Sing for me, little bird,” he demanded. “Let me hear your song.”

She cried out as she felt it. Three times, maybe even four times stronger than what she had felt in the hot springs, it nearly knocked her out. She only vaguely realized that Sandor had joined her in her song. He had braced himself above her, his weight on his elbows, his breath fast against the sweat on her skin. His body was pressed fully against hers, but she was not crushed beneath him at all. She lay there, nestled under him, utterly content. She suddenly opened her eyes and shoved him off of her. He have her a very disgruntled _Hey!_ “Oh my goodness, how long have we been in here?!” she asked, searching for her clothes.

“Something wrong?” he grumbled. She looked over at him.

 _‘Is he pouting?’_ she thought. It was adorable, but she didn't have time to tease him. “Yes, my friend that came with me...she must think you've killed me by now. I need to let her know I'm fine. Better than fine, really.” She hopped back on the bed and pushed him over so he was laying on his back. “Plus, I need to rescue my… Well, she's not my friend, but I need to rescue Margaery. I can't, in good conscience, leave her on the long path.” He still looked put out. Sitting on his stomach, she leaned over and nuzzled him, “Please, oh great and powerful mage, oh delightful stirrer of my loins,” she giggled and managed to get a small grin out of him. She continued, “Oh savior of dwarves, matchmaker to water nymphs and humans alike, oh he of the best to ever grace my bed--”

“You mean the _only_ to grace your bed,” he said with some pride.

She grinned, “Yes, the only, but still the best. Please, my husband, the one I pledge to love and cherish the rest of my life, take down this illusion so that I may find my clothes, assure my friend and rescue my fellow villager. Surely you are not so cruel as to deny me this?”

“I _am_ quite cruel,” he said, playing with a lock of her hair. “It is known.”

“Of course, you are most fearsome and known to eat the children of those that wrong you,” she said solemnly.

“Yes. People fear me. I am known throughout the lands as a horrible monster. It is a reputation I have culled for a very long time. The Hellhound of the Dark Forest.” He looked at her, “For you, I will be a little kinder. Just a bit.”

“Every little bit of kindness I receive will be cherished and rewarded,” she promised. He sighed, but was smiling, and snapped his fingers. They were outside of Brienne and Jaime's home, fully dressed.

“Reward me later by sitting on me again, but on my cock instead of my stomach,” he growled playfully in her ear. She giggled and nodded in agreement.

“Sansa!” she heard Lollys call right before she was tackled with a hug. “I was so worried about you, you were in there for so long…” Sansa stroked her hair as Lollys sobbed into her stomach.

“Master?” Brienne asked. She and Lollys had been drinking tea on the front porch by the looks of it. The sun had set and lanterns lit the area.

He grumbled. “It's me. Curse is broken. You're free to leave, or stay. Makes no difference to me,” he said.

“I'm fine, dear heart,” Sansa cooed to Lollys. “And I have someone I want you to meet. This is my husband, Sandor.”

Lollys looked up at him and tightened her grip on Sansa in fear. “Sansa! That's the demon!!” she whispered.

Sansa laughed, still stroking Lollys’ hair. “I know, but he's not a demon anymore. He was cursed, and now it is broken. He's a human, just like you or me.”

“Except I can still turn you into a daffodil if you don't get off my wife immediately,” Sandor growled, not so playfully this time.

Lollys got up off of Sansa and gazed upon him in awe. “Truly? Can you do it for a little while? I've always wanted to be a flower, just to see what it's like.”

“Uh, sure,” he said, looking at her in bemusement. “Maybe later. Have one more thing to do first.” He helped Sansa to her feet, then walked over to the cave wall. Touching the rock, he muttered an incantation and the rock began to glow, shifting and bubbling like water until it parted and exposed a very naked Margaery being suspended above and penetrated in nearly every orifice she had by a very happy monster with a lot of tentacles. Sansa covered Lollys’ eyes. She wasn't sure if Margaery was happy or disappointed to be rescued, though she certainly seemed embarrassed to be found like that. Sandor looked at her in disgust, but a few finger snaps later, Margaery was out of the monster’s clutches and fully clothed, with her belongings.

“Bye, Ellaria darling!” she said to the monster as the rock shifted back to its original form. Sansa raised her eyebrows as the monster waved back and blew a kiss. A _female_ monster. She sort of reminded Sansa of a centaur, but instead of being half horse, she was half octopus.

 _‘Interesting,’_ Sansa thought.

“So I guess the quest is over then? Can't be rescued if it wasn't,” Margaery said sadly. “Grandmother is going to be cross with me.”

“You made your bed, and got fucked on it,” Sandor said. “If you weren't be so selfish, you might have earned the reward as well.”

“So Sansa earned it? Figures. She's such a goody two shoes.” It was said without malice and it was mostly true, but it still hurt to hear it.

Sansa frowned at Margaery. “No, Lollys completed the quest. She is the hero here, not me.”

She thought Margaery’s eyes were going to fall out of their sockets, her eyes had gotten so wide. “LOLLYS?! But how??”

“She did as I asked,” Sandor said with a shrug. “And she was chosen by my little bird, guided by her. If you had stayed with the group, you would have been as well. Now she gets the reward, and you were able to fuck your way across my forest. Seems about right to me.”

“Sandor…” Sansa said, in a soft voice, “I know it's true, but isn't that all just salt to the wound?”

“But I still get a compensation, don't I?” Margaery asked, clearly unperturbed by Sandor's words.

“Yes, you daft chit. You can ask for one thing, within reason,” he said, annoyed she wasn't taking any of her journey to heart.

“I would like to be able to see Ellaria whenever I want,” Margaery said, blushing. “We, um, we became quite close in the days I was trapped in there.”

Sandor was amused by the request. “You have a mirror?” She dug into her pack and pulled out a small handheld mirror. Sandor took it from her.  “I'll be right back,” and poofed into thin air.

“So what kind of bird was it?” Margaery asked Lollys. “I thought for sure Sansa would be the one to be blessed by the gods and win the handsome prince.”

“What prince?” Jaime asked startling the lot of them.

“Where have you been?” asked Brienne. “The Master has been freed from his curse. You can go find your brother without guilt.”

“I figured as much, but I want to know what prince this one is talking about,” he said, pointing at Margaery.

“Oh, you know, there's always a cursed prince or princess that needs saving and then ends up marrying the hero. That's why I joined. I was sure the demon was really a cursed prince who was changed into a demon because a wicked wizard was jealous of his good looks, gentle nature and wealth.”

“Sorry, no Prince. Just the Master, who is now free from said curse,” Jaime said, inching away from her.

Margaery shrugged. “I've had some of the best sex ever, so it's a draw, I suppose. Think the big scary man has a cock to match?” she said, licking her lips.

Lollys smacked her. “He's Sansa’s.”

“Ow. Alright, alright, no asking the big man for a ride on his pony,” Margaery said laughing. “I was just joking. Not sure I could anyway, such a scary face.”

Sansa glared at her, but didn't press the issue. Fortunately, Sandor reappeared at that moment. Handing the mirror back to Margaery, he said, “You can talk with her whenever you want using this. Just say her name. I've enchanted it to be a communication and portal device. Ellaria has one too. When you want to see her in person, point it to a wall and say, ‘Portal open,’ and a portal will open to Ellaria’s mirror. When the portal opens, it will stay open for three minutes or until you walk through it. Make sure you don’t take the mirror with you, unless you want to walk back home. Ellaria can open the portal on her end when you want to go back. Any questions?”

“No, I understand,” she said, looking at the mirror. “So what now? It’s too late to start our return trip, the sun is setting already.”

“You can stay in the castle,” Sandor said, offering his arm to Sansa. “There’s plenty of room. More than enough for everyone here.”

“What castle?” Margaery asked. “There’s nothing here except your sex dungeon and your lair.”

Jaime snorted, while Brienne tried to hold back her laughter. Sandor just looked annoyed. “It's not a sex dungeon. It's called the Path of Vices. You just managed to find all the lust traps, you nymphomaniac. Oberyn, the Sand Snakes, the Flower cousins, and finally Ellaria. You walked right by the greed, the wrath, the sloth, the envy, the pride and gluttony traps. Didn't even _notice_ any of the other people trapped in there, and there are several.  You're lucky Sansa wanted to rescue you, otherwise you'd have to wait until a True Hero came in and set the lot of you free. The path is for those who can’t see what’s right in front of their faces. You named Jaime the woman because he didn’t fall for your advances.” Margaery blushed at that. “Now, as for the castle, it’s inside the hills. Originally built by some of those mountain dwarves, but was abandoned long ago. I managed to find it during my travels before I was cursed. I needed somewhere to go until I could figure out how to break it, so I came back here. It’s quiet, it’s private, and I could eventually experiment on magicks as much as I wanted, once I got my human form back. Now, do you want shelter or not? I’d just as soon let you freeze out here or stay with Ellaria.”

“Oh, um, I’ll stay in the castle. I’ve had a lot of fun with Ellaria, but I could really use a break.” Lollys gasped at Margaery’s words. Sansa could see Jaime holding his sides and wiping away tears. It was quite absurd, but she didn’t think it was _that_ funny.

**********

Sansa slept in Sandor’s bed that night. It was so strange. She hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since she was eight and Arya told Bran enough scary stories that he begged her to let him sleep with her. Rickon had laughed his head off, but after Arya got ahold of him, he had joined them. Two shivering little boys that thought their big sister could protect them from the scariest story. It had taken Rickon three weeks to be able to sleep by himself and five weeks for Bran.

She woke twice that night. First, when Sandor had thrown his arm over her and it became too uncomfortable. The second time, it was when he was snuffling around, his nose pressed to her flesh like he was a hellhound again. She wasn't entirely certain if he was awake or asleep. He settled down after a bit, resting his head just above her tummy.

**********

When morning came, she woke to an empty bed and a note. _‘Went to take care of some things. Be back soon. Dining room is at the bottom of the stairs and to the left. --S’_

She found a fresh set of clothes waiting for her in the refreshing room and put them on to find that they fit her perfectly and were just warm enough to keep her comfortable. Delighted, she headed down to the dining room.

Margaery was stuffing her face while Lollys looked mildly disturbed as she watched. “Good morning, Sansa. Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, I _bet_ she slept well,” Margaery said with a wink. “With a big man like that sharing her bed, who wouldn't.”

Sandor _had_ made love to her again, though that was none of Margaery's business. Sansa shot a dirty look at her, but Margaery just grinned and went back to her breakfast. Turning to Lollys, she said, “Good morning, dear heart. I slept well enough.” She ignored a snigger from Margaery. “And yourself?

“I dreamt of the cottage,” Lollys replied in a quiet voice. “And Bronn.”

“Good dreams?”

Lollys smiled. “Very good dreams. We will see him again, won't we?”

“Of course, dear heart. He would be most disappointed if we didn't see him on the return trip.”

**********

“You want to go back?” Sandor asked. He looked like a child that had just been told his favorite toy had been broken beyond repair.

“Just to see my family and friends, let them know what's going on… You would be coming with me, of course. They'll want to meet my husband.” She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. His went instinctively around her waist. “Then we can come back here and just...live.”

“That's it? Just to meet your family?”

“Well, Mother might insist on an actual wedding, but we can talk her out of it if we get my father on our side. It won't be so bad, and we'll be together.”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Do you want a wedding ceremony?”

Startled, she said, “I...I don't know. I am your wife, and I made a vow to you, even if it wasn't a traditional one. I would never leave you and I don't need a ceremony to make it so. But at the same time, I do want everyone to know we belong together.”

He brought his hand to her face and stroked her cheek. She leaned into his palm, enjoying the warm of it. “I want everyone to know that, too,” he said quietly. “I'll insist on the ceremony, even just a quick one in the center of town, if your mother doesn't.”

“How cruel,” she said with a grin. He snorted a chuckle. “Oh, but there's a stop or two that we have to make along the way.”


	8. Part 1, Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be taking a bit of a break after the next chapter.  
> Part 2, Chapter 1 will post as usual on Thursday, 9/15. The tone will be changing a bit.

“Alright, alright, everyone ready? Keep your limbs inside the circle if you don't want to lose them. Jaime!! What did I just say?!” Brienne screamed at her husband. Sandor was in the center of the large mage circle that was carved into a stone near the cave entrance, chanting the incantation, and had asked Brienne to wrangle everyone into behaving. Namely Jaime.

“What? It's not like he can't grow me a new one,” he said, playing the hokey pokey on the edge of the circle. Brienne smacked him and dragged him from the circle edge.

The lines of the circle, swirls and straight alike, began to glow red. The words, some language Sansa had never seen before, glowed purple. Lollys’ grip on her hand nearly cut her blood flow as the glow reached a blinding level. A crack of thunder and the light subsided.

“Well, that was disappointing,” Margaery piped up. She, and the rest of them, took a look around. “Oh, this is…”

“Lollys?” a hopeful voice called out. Sansa turned and saw Bronn. They were on a stone, similar to the one near the cave, but this one must have been covered in snow the last time they had been here. Bronn had been heading back to his house after chopping wood and had dropped his haul, most likely from the surprise of their arrival. He was staring at the short raven-haired girl, but it was Margaery who walked up to him.

“Bronny! Did you miss me? Still living in a shack, I see.” She kissed the man square on the mouth. Sansa heard a squeak from Lollys.

“Margaery? And...Jaime? Brie? Sansa, too… What are you doing here?” Bronn looked to Sandor in confusion.

“Get your stuff. We're going on a trip.”

“Where?”

“The girls’ village. Gotta talk to some parents about their daughter.” He looked at Sansa, then very pointedly at Lollys. Sansa was glad to see Sandor had caught on to the situation pretty quickly.

Margaery hadn't. “Oh, Bronny, don't worry about talking to my parents. Once I return to my boring village life, I won't be able to indulge as much as I did on this adventure. What we had was fun, but I'm not looking to get tied down right now. Well, not in that sense.” Sansa felt really bad for both Bronn and Lollys when Margaery winked at the poor man.

“Bronn, why don't you go pack and Margaery and I are going to have a little girl talk,” Sansa said, pulling the brunette aside. Bronn nodded weakly and walked inside. “Lollys, why don't you go help him? Make things go a little faster?” Lollys, on the verge of tears, straightened her back and followed Bronn in silence. Sansa pinched Margaery.

“Ow! What was that for?!” she demanded.

“You haven't learned anything have you?”

“What are you talking about? I learned. I'm not jumping into bed with him, now am I? Which, honestly, he's really good, but Ellaria is so much better. He does this thing with his cock that Ellaria can do three times over with her--”

“Enough! That's only part of what I'm talking about,” Sansa snapped at her. Margaery mollified a bit. “I'm also talking about paying attention to what's going on around you. It was clear to everyone but you that he isn't interested in continuing what you two had.”

Margaery's cute nose wrinkled in her confusion. “What? But he…”

“He called out to _Lollys,_ not you. Which you would have realized if you had been _paying attention._ He likes her. As in he wants to _marry_ her kind of likes her.” Sansa put her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Bronn will be lucky if he can convince Lollys there's nothing between him and you.”

“Oh... I had no idea,” Margaery said. “Well, now I feel bad. I can fix this.”

“Margaery, I really don't--”

“Bronn! I need to talk to you!” she yelled out. Sansa turned to see Bronn and Lollys exiting the cottage. Margaery was already headed towards them.

“Margaery, can this wait? Lollys is…” he began, looking worn out.

“No, I just want to say, that I misled you before. I had no intention of picking up where we left off. You're a nice guy, but really annoying after a few hours. Besides, I've met someone, someone who fills the void inside me--”

“More like several voids,” they all heard Jaime say.

_“--AND_ ...and, really, you and I? We have no chemistry. I mean, I'm sure you'll meet a nice girl, one who likes your annoying little quirks, that doesn't want to kill you after only knowing you for half a day...someone who will appreciate that...that _thing_ you do.” Several eyebrows went up. “So, no hard feelings? I'd say we can still be friends, but who would I be kidding?”

“Uh, alright, no hard feelings then?” Bronn looked even more confused. Lollys looked hopeful.

Margaery nodded in agreement and turned back to the transport circle. Sandor just shook his head as everyone gathered  onto the stone.

**********

“Oh my,” Sansa said as soon as they landed in Tyrion's clearing. A large hand covered her eyes, but she peeked through Sandor's fingers to see. He growled but she refused to look away.

She heard a squeak from Lollys and a chuckle from Margaery, Bronn and Jaime. Brienne said nothing, but Sansa figured the woman must have gone several shades of red and then turned away.

The scene before them was straight from one of Chief Robert’s dirty etchings that the boys were always trying to steal. There were three Shaes, each one wearing a scarf on their arms and doing something different. _At least they're all wearing different colors?_ she thought. Shae Red was her back, with Shae Blue lying on top of her. Shae Blue was kissing Shae Red, fondling her breasts and just touching her all over, while Tyrion thrust his manhood between them. The third Shae, Shae Yellow, was on her knees behind Tyrion, thrusting into him with her---

“Oh my!” She clamped Sandor's hand down over her eyes. Sandor barked a laugh.

“Innocent little bird,” he whispered in her ear. Her cheeks and ears burned with embarrassment.

“It's just a bit much for me, that's all,” she said indignantly.

“Like I said, fresh snow with paw prints,” he whispered. They all heard all the Shaes cry out at the same time while a single Tyrion did as well. “Oh good, they're done.” She felt Sandor move his other hand and heard the snap of his fingers. He let go of her and she saw that the Shaes and Tyrion had been clothed. They were sulking until Tyrion noticed one of their group.

“Jaime!” He ran as Jaime stepped forward a few steps. The reunion was touching to see. Both men were crying. “I've missed you so much, big brother…”

“I've missed you too. I knew Cersei had done something to you, but I couldn't find out what, I couldn't find _you.”_ Jaime hugged him harder. “We'll break this damn curse of hers, I swear it.”

“Oh, um, actually...it's been broken. Just this morning, in fact…” Tyrion was blushing and looking shyly at Shae, who had become one again.

“He has a good cock,” she said. “So I agreed to marry him.” Sansa wanted to clap with joy when she saw the tender look in Shae’s eyes. “We will live here, if the Master Mage will allow it.”

“Fine by me.” He turned to Jaime. “Alright, will you and Brienne be staying here for awhile? We can pick you up on the way back,” Sandor said.

“Yes, if you don't mind. Oh, where will we sleep though?” Jaime was looking at Tyrion's house dubiously.

Sandor pulled a small, round object out of his pocket and set it down in a spot away from everything and everyone. “Never leave home without a temporary one.” He waved his hand over it and backed away quickly. The object glowed and began to expand, reminding Sansa of a bubble being inflated with air, until it was twice as tall as Sandor. It burst, again like a bubble, and revealed a quaint little house. “It’s got enough provisions for a week,” he told them. “You break anything in it, you’re replacing it.” He glared at Jaime, who looked away as if he had no idea what Sandor could mean.

“Let’s get going then,” Sansa said, taking Sandor’s hand and leading him back to the circle.

“This last one is going to be a bit bumpy,” he told them. “Don’t have a transport stone near the village. I can make one, for later, but this one...might want to sit in the circle and hold on to each other.”

The girls huddled in the middle, sitting as closely as they could, with Bronn and Sandor holding hands in a circle around them. Sandor muttered the incantation. The carvings glowed as they did before, but this time, instead of a crack of thunder, it was more like a stampede of livestock. The ground shook underneath them, and Sansa was certain her very essence would come apart from the vibrations. It was painful, more painful than anything she had ever experienced before. She thought she might have been screaming, and then, it was quiet. She was on the ground and Sandor was holding her, whispering to her, “Little bird, come back to me.”

“What happened?” she asked, her voice weaker than she expected. Her eyes hurt too. Everything hurt, but her eyes hurt the most.

“I don’t know. Never had that happened before. You were the only one so affected,” he said. “I’ll build the transport stone before we leave here. The journey home will be smoother with it.” She nodded and closed her eyes. She could smell the scent of his sweat, clean and earthy. It calmed her.

“Did we at least make it? Back to the village?” she asked, eyes still closed.

“Yes. The villagers should be here any moment. We weren’t exactly quiet in our arrival.” She could hear him smiling. _'He really has such a nice smile.'_

“The last time the villagers were upon us, I made you leave. Now, I can’t wait for them to meet you. Arya will find you fascinating.” A feather light kiss touched her lips.

“As long as I have you, I’ll meet whoever you want me to,” he said.

“Careful, you have a cruel reputation to protect,” she said, getting to her feet with his help. He laughed. The pain had lessened to a manageable level. She could see the others standing to the side, looking at her with concern. She gave them a slight smile, just enough to alleviate their worry. Lollys hugged her. "I'm alright, dear heart. I'm alright," Sansa said, soothing the girl.

The first person to see them was Joffrey. He was soon followed by his parents, Sansa's family and Lollys’ family, then the Tyrell horde, and finally the rest of the village.

Sandor was holding onto her again after Lollys had let go to greet her parents, causing many of the people to stare. Margaery was trying to get the attention back to her, but she was casting worried looks towards Sansa.  _'I think she's actually trying to be helpful,'_ Sansa thought, though it wasn't doing any good. Ned’s face contorted with fear and then rage. Robb was not far behind, his sword already drawn. The sword was unfamiliar to her, with strange markings on it.

“Let go of her, demon!” Her father drew his sword and advanced on Sandor.

Sandor was unimpressed, but Sansa was worried, more for her father and brother than Sandor. “Father! Robb! Stop this! He is not the demon.”

“I'd know those scars anywhere! He is the Demon of the Woods! Step away from him, Sansa,” Ned said, holding his hand out to her. Sandor's grip on her tightened, but she touched his hand to reassure him.

“Trust me?” she asked in a voice so soft, only he could hear.

“Always.”

She let go of Sandor and took a step towards her father. She did not take his hand. Instead, she kept herself in between him and her husband. “Father, please put down the sword. He is not the demon. Not any longer.” Ned stared hard at the man behind her. “Father, look at me and know the truth I speak. He was cursed to that form. I broke the curse. Now I am his and he is mine. Do not try to hurt him. He will defend himself as he sees fit.” She took a deep breath. “And I will not stop him.”

Robb look at her with incredulous disbelief. “You would forsake your own family... for _him!?_ He's terrorized us for years!”

Sansa tilted her head slightly. She had wondered about that as she and Lollys had trekked through the woods. “Did he? Or did we terrorize ourselves? Has anyone ever actually been hurt or killed by the demon?”

A low murmur went through the crowd. A few people put forth suggestions, only to have them shot down by someone else.

“That's what I thought,” she said. “The one we called _demon_ was just a beast in the woods that we told stories of until we no longer knew what was real and what was true. To persecute him based on ‘facts’ we made up is unjust and shows us to be backwards thinking. He doesn't want to hurt us.”

Ned lowered his sword. “And what does he want with us now that this curse of his is broken? We have nothing to offer him.”

Sandor stepped forward to stand beside Sansa. “I wouldn't say nothing,” he said, looking down at Sansa with fondness. She blushed.

Robb advanced before she could speak, though Ned tried to stop him, “Never! She is not for the likes of you!”

Sandor's eyes narrowed at her brother. Sansa wanted to weep when Sandor said, “Don't take another step. I don't want to kill you.” She knew he was refraining for her sake, but Robb was being stupid and stubborn.

“You can try, but it will be your lifeblood on my sword,” Robb snarled. Ned tried to stop him again, but Robb was out of his reach and charging at Sandor. Sandor pushed her behind him, trying to protect her but he was leaving himself wide open to Robb’s attack. _Those markings! They are anti-magic!_ She knew this to be true, but how she acquired the knowledge or even to question the how escaped her at the moment.

_No!!_ she wanted to scream, and maybe she did. She felt the emotion bubble up inside her, threatening to spill out. Her vision began to shake, or maybe it was the world, and it was _roaring._ No one else seemed to notice, but they were moving like they were underwater. She felt light and heavy at the same time, fast and slow, rightside up and upside down. She could see the blade arching, the sharp tip cutting into Sandor's tunic. So slow, but she was slower, couldn't move, couldn't save him, must save him MUST SAVE HIM _MUST SAVE HIM MUSTSAVEHIM_

Time stopped. There were no sounds, no movement. She saw it clearly. Sandor was about to die. That sword would kill him and no magic or healer would be able to save him. She couldn't let that happen. She _wouldn't._

A blink.

Time sped up, trying frantically to resume its normal pace. She was suddenly in front of Robb and Sandor was hurled backwards. The arc continued as the blade sunk deep into her chest. Robb’s face shattered as he realized who was in front of him. She fell back, the sword still inside her. Was someone screaming? It sounded like Lollys. Margaery, too, actually. Shouldn't this hurt? Why didn't it hurt? The sky was so blue. It was winter. Why wasn't the sky grey like it usually was? At least she had a nice view. She could hear someone yelling. Several someones, but they were so far away, it was hard to make out what they were saying. _So quiet. And cold. It was winter, of course she was cold. Silly Sansa. But it was getting colder. Where was her husband? Her Sandor. He was warm, so warm, he would warm her up. Oh, there he is, above her. He looks worried. Don't be worried. I'm fine, just a bit cold. Why can’t I speak? Why can't I move?_ He was lifting her up. She liked being carried by him. She could hear Robb, arguing about...something. She couldn't make out the words even though he was right there. Sandor was growling at Robb, that much was clear. Her father yelled at both of them. They quieted down and picked up the pace. _Where are we going?_ She heard a familiar voice. _Mistress Melisandre…_ Her eyelids were so heavy. Her vision blacked out and it took her a few moments to realize her eyes were closed.

She was carefully lowered onto a flat surface. The scents tickled her nose. _Melisandre’s hut, why are we here? Oh, I will need to tell her I can't be her apprentice anymore. I really liked being her apprentice though. Maybe I can ask Sandor if I can use the transport...the trans...what was I thinking about?_ She saw the fire blazing big and hot, but only felt colder. She heard Melisandre say, “I might be able to help her, but I need you to _get out!”_ Sandor was shooed out, along with her father and brother. _So cold…_ she thought, as she slipped into nothingness.

End Part 1


	9. Part 2, Chapter 1

Sandor stood by the table where Sansa's body lay, holding her hand in his. He didn’t quite believe it. She had been the first thing he saw this morning, so how could she be gone?

Her family had already been by to say their goodbyes. Her eldest brother hadn’t been able to look at her for long and ran out crying. Sandor had to keep his eyes on Sansa, and chant to himself that she wouldn’t want him to go and beat the idiot into the ground until he was just a red stain in the grass. Most of the others had avoided him, weeping silently as they stood nearby, most likely blaming him for her death. Her sister Arya, on the other hand, had been calm, seemingly not bothered by the fact that Sansa was no longer with them. He knew they were close, probably the closest ones of all the family members (which was why he had bothered to remember her name), so her reaction was the most curious. The girl kissed Sansa’s forehead and whispered something in her ear. Before leaving the witch’s hut, she had given Sandor a slight nod of acknowledgement. He suspected it might even have been of approval. The witch had followed Arya. 

_ Tch. Don’t need her approval. Not anymore. _ Soon, he would have to return to his underground castle, formerly his sanctuary, now filled with reminders of the woman he had loved and lost. He rubbed the back of Sansa’s hand with his thumb, remembering. 

He usually kept away from the villages bordering the monstrously large forest, mostly because they had misconceptions of him and ran away as soon as they saw him, screaming that the Demon was trying to kill them. He had never actually gone after any of them. They took one look at his cursed form and believed the worst. It was a pain in the ass. He would have just stayed in his found castle, except he needed to stretch his legs, and running around the forest helped. There were other beings that lived in the forest, some had magic, some didn’t, but they needed help. The forest had a dark reputation for humans and it was seen as a refuge for those who were at odds with them. Most of them stayed hidden when humans entered the forest. Sandor hadn’t had anything better to do, so he started helping where he could, his journeys away from his castle becoming more and more far reaching each year, until he was touring the entire expanse for the majority of the year and keeping to the castle only during the cold months.

He had seen her the first day he entered the area near her village. It was her laughter that had caught his attention. She had been at the creek with her youngest brother and Arya. He had kept to the other side, the cliff he was on had plenty of shrubs and places to hide. He didn’t know how long he had stayed there just watching them, watching her in particular. He had waited in the forest, hoping to see her again. He had been found by some of the others instead. They ran away, as usual. He had had to find a new hiding place, this one was a bit more remote. He waited, hoping to get a whiff of her scent on the wind. It took nearly two weeks after those idiots had spotted him, but she finally made an appearance near the well. Almost no one went to that well, and the one old woman who did hadn’t noticed him at all. 

When she appeared, he couldn’t hold himself back. He was able to communicate (he could still use magic items as well, though his ability to cast spells was nullified) and wanted to just talk to her. She had frozen when she realized he was there. He was still in the shadows, so she couldn’t see him, but there was no denying his presence. She hadn’t run away or screamed. That was a first. He felt the magic of the curse shake a little, and it startled him into growling. That had scared her. She still hadn’t screamed, but she ran, dropping her water bucket next to the well. His canine instincts kicked in, and he gave chase. Playful chase, guiding her further and further into the forest. When she tripped, he had nearly trampled her. He had growled at himself in anger, but her scent was too tempting and he started sniffing her, enjoying it immensely. He knew this was a rare chance, and he was  _ definitely _ crossing a line, but he blamed it on his canine side. Real dogs were inquisitive and ignored the personal boundaries of humans.  _ It’s just a little sniff, for fuck’s sake. She just smells so good. Just a little lick. Fuck. Tastes good, too. Just one more time, from ankle to neck. Skirt’s in the way. Dogs don’t care about personal space. Ah, such a lovely calf, such lovely-- _

That was when he smelled it. She was aroused. He completely lost himself, burying his nose and his tongue in her scent, in her cunt, completely. He managed to get her underclothes off with his paws, and everything intensified. She smelled and tasted so fucking good. His cock was out, dripping a little from his excitement. Even when he had been human, he hadn’t wanted a woman as much as he wanted her in that moment. The magic of the curse shook again, but he barely noticed when she was making some damn alluring noises and clawing at the ground, but she wasn’t trying to get away. No, she lifted her hips instead, giving him better access. She begged for more,  _ begged. _ In the back of his mind, he knew it was wrong, but his canine...no, his  _ male _ instincts ignored it. She was his, he need only claim her, but when he took her maidenhead, it felt more like it was  _ her _ claiming  _ him. _ The curse shook a third time, and that was when he knew, he  _ knew, _ she was the one, the one who would free him. He almost lost himself in the feel of her, she was just so responsive. She was begging him to not stop, and he didn’t want to, but then his canine ears had heard the shouts. She whined when he stopped, and fuck, he wanted to ignore the approaching men, keep fucking her until she came, but they were too close, and she wasn’t close enough. She soon realized it too, which was odd, since she didn’t have the same senses as him. It was another clue. She had magic, enough to sense the approaching danger, enough to break him free, but not enough to notice it herself. The red priest that ran with his old teacher had told him, a few months after being cursed, that he would find freedom again, but it would come at a cost. His heart. He had thought it meant he would find freedom in death, but as the curse shook from the very presence of this woman, he saw that it meant something else. He belonged to her, his heart most of all.

She promised herself to him, gave him her name, and he ran. He hadn’t been joking. He would have killed every last one of those people, but not because they threatened him. No, it would have been because they were a threat to  _ her. _ He knew it, and he suspected she did, too. If those people had known she had willingly given herself to him, had let him fuck her and had  _ enjoyed _ it, they would have killed her. He watched over her as best he could, but he was limited in this ability. The village was too far from the edge of the forest for him to be able to sneak into it without detection. He barely managed it once, only to discover her mother had her under extreme surveillance. He heard her father say that he suspected Sansa was lying, but that he couldn’t think of why or about what. He couldn’t get to her, not when he was like this, trapped in the deplorable form, useless without his magic. He retreated, his annual visit to Tyrion pushed aside as he continued on to his cave castle. 

He told Brienne and Jaime to not disturb him, that he had work to do. Jaime had demanded to help, but was really just being nosy. Brienne had him covered. She was truly his most reliable asset. He made a note to make some improvements to their house, after he attempted his plan.

He found the large viewing mirror he had stashed away. He had gotten it after some princess took back her kingdom from her stepmother, an evil witch. He had still been human at the time, and had been a guest at the princess’s wedding. It had horrified him to see that not only had the defeated witch snuck into the wedding feast, but that when captured, the princess had ordered red hot steel shoes put onto her stepmother’s feet so that she may “dance” for the guests. He could have intervened, but he knew the stepmother had attempted to kill the girl on multiple occasions. The smell of burning flesh had stayed with him for a week. He swiped the stepmother’s set of magic mirrors before leaving. He figured she wouldn’t be using them any time soon. 

He had set up the mirror in the throne room. The dais there was his favorite napping place, and it was easy to set up the mirror next to it. He watched her using the mirror. He saw how she fretted about not being able to meet him, how she tried to recreate their experience together using her fingers, moaning his name, but never quite getting it. He felt her frustration and wished he could help, but it was also his second favorite time of day. His favorite was after, when she hugged her pillow and whispered his name again as she dreamt, this time fondly. He was jealous of that damned pillow. He needed her. He ached for her. It was partly because of the curse and the fact that he wanted it broken, but more of it was her, just wanting to be with her. He got to know her better as he watched her in the mirror. It felt like cheating, since she couldn’t possibly get to know him until she was with him again, but he couldn’t help it. He tried to think of how he could get her to come to him, since it was clear she was out of his reach as long as she was in the village. The idea came to him three weeks after they met, and she was allowed to return to her apprenticeship with the red witch. Of course! If he sent a message to the red witch as “the demon”, then he could easily orchestrate her delivery to him. One of the other mirrors, a communications mirror, would do nicely. 

He planned out the message: Send Sansa to the demon’s caves to help the demon. If she succeeds, she will be richly rewarded. If she does not, no harm will come to her. Simple, non-threatening, there was no way the village elders could say no. 

It had taken some effort to get the mirror to connect to the witch’s fire pit, but he managed to get the message through. He sat back to watch her speak to Sansa's father and the other elders, only to hear her tell them  _ any _ maiden would do the trick. Not only that, that as many could go if they wanted to. They would be  _ compensated _ if they did not succeed. What the fuck was he supposed to give them as compensation? Then the red witch mentioned the demon wanting his pet bird returned and he had gone cold with fear. He had never mentioned a bird, nor that he wanted his little bird returned to him, though that was essentially what he wanted. The look on Sansa's face told him she recognized the implication as well, though it was different for her. She seemed...hopeful. 

He was horrified when two other women were set to go on the journey, but relieved when Sansa stepped forward as well. It would have set his plans back several weeks if she hadn't. It also made him feel better to know she chose to return to him, instead of him requesting her. He figured he could just ask the others what they wanted in return and go from there. As long as he got Sansa back, the rest could be dealt with. He would have to let Bronn, Jaime and Brienne know about the change in plans, but it was minor and shouldn’t alter anything significantly.

He watched her journey to him, had cursed loudly when he saw the brunette leave Sansa and the other one in the shelter tree, and then was fascinated when Sansa dry humped the other girl in her sleep while calling his name. It happened several more times, with neither woman waking, and he sat in front of the mirror with his eyes fixated on the glass. 

He was terrified when she met Tyrion. The brunette had latched onto the dwarf’s cock with such fervor, he was scared Sansa would do the same. She had lain with his cursed, ugly self, why would she not lay with a well endowed dwarf? But she didn't and he had nearly passed out from holding his breath to see her reaction. She had neatly foiled Tyrion's plan to fuck every available female he met, but had gotten what she wanted anyway. She was kind to all, generous, and thoughtful. He was falling for her. He was already hers, but became more so the closer she got. 

Her run in with Shae was the stuff of fantasies, and she was quiet, but he clearly saw her mouthing his name as she came. He had never missed having hands more than he did at that moment. 

He hadn’t been surprised to see that the brunette had fallen into bed with Bronn, but he was pleased to see Bronn's emotional connection with the raven haired woman. His once enemy and now closest friend had given up a lot in life. He deserved to find happiness. The fact that Sansa seemed to agree made him proud. 

The last obstacle before entering the caves… Sandor had spoken to Brienne and Jaime when they first came to him, and it was Jaime's idea for the test. Brienne had been mortified, but had agreed after some cajoling from Jaime. It was clear that Sansa had figured it out, but he had been surprised when she turned to the raven haired woman. She was up to something, but he couldn't figure out what. 

He had wait with trepidation as the two entered the former throne room, trying to appear nonchalant. When he looked up, he had been crushed with disappointment that only the raven haired woman was there. She was shaking like a leaf, and smelled heavily of Sansa's scent. Her words hadn't seemed her own and when Sansa stepped out from behind the woman, he realized they weren't. Sansa gently dismissed the woman, and they were together again. Sandor was the one shaking now, hoping she was the one. His belief from when they first met had been plagued by doubt, and he had half convinced himself that it was just his lust talking. 

A few had tried before, making themselves available to him as a servant, but none had made the curse shake as Sansa had, and none had passed the final piece, letting go of him before as soon as the wind started to howl. Princesses that were trying to find a rich husband or cursed prince to marry. He demanded she kiss him to pledge herself to him.  _ To be my wife. _ Only one who wanted to be with him, who could see him beneath the surface of the curse, could be the one to break it. When the winds of magic began to swirl about them, he changed his mind and tried to push her away. She was in pain, it was  _ hurting _ her! How could he subject her to this? How could he ask this of her? He tried to get her to let go, but she didn't, she held on tighter. He could hear the curse, cracking under the pressure of her determination until it broke like glass. 

He was himself again. More importantly, he was naked and his wife was clinging to him for dear life. He was only human after all. Joining with her again, fucking her tight cunt, he wanted to stay like this forever. He still couldn't believe that she broke the curse. It was a dream, and one he didn't want to wake from. He felt some shame when she threw him off of her, before realizing it wasn't because she  _ wanted _ to leave. Time was of the essence. She had a big heart and was concerned for the two that joined her in this quest. It was an easy thing to do for her, and she was eager to return to his chambers, now  _ their _ chambers, that evening. It had been slower this time, but no less pleasing. He should had loved her again the next morning. If he had known she would be gone before the sun set, he would have told the raven haired one to sit on Bronn's cock while she waited and left the brunette nymphomaniac to Ellaria. He would never have brought her back here, to this hellhole of a village. 

He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but the sun was gone, and the fireplace crackled low in the background. 

“She was a rare one,” the red witch said softly. He hadn't seen her reenter the hut. “Of all my pupils, she was the most promising. But you knew that, of course.”

“Enough with your chatter, witch. Where have you been as to neglect your duty to preparing her for burial?” he growled. “It's been hours.”

“Correction, it has been a day,” the witch said. She was mixing something in a bowl, grinding it into a fine powder. 

“Did you just say…”

“Yes, you have been at her side since yesterday afternoon. You were in a trance. I dared not break it. And I had some ingredients to collect.”

“Ingredients? For what?” The burial preparation didn't need anything like what was in her hands. 

“You want her back, don't you? I'm going to do just that.” She mixed the powder into another bowl with some oil. “I've never tried this before but if the red god wills it, she will live again. Pick her up and follow me.”

Sandor didn't put much faith in any of the gods, but he picked up Sansa and followed the witch out of the village and into the forest. After climbing a set of stairs carved from a cliff face, he saw that they were in a clearing in the forest, but not as nice as Tyrion's. The ground was sparse, mostly rocks and dirt. And the edges of the clearing were bordered by small boulders. The witch had him lay Sansa down on a stone table in the middle of the clearing. A taste of magic was in the air. The witch had said she used this place to practice in peace. 

“You don't believe me, you don’t believe that this will work,” she said, amusement playing on her face. “That is fine. It is not required for this process. Only my faith is required, my faith in my god and in her.”

“In her?”

The witch nodded. “She is special. I knew it the moment she was born. I was there to pull her from her mother's womb. I felt her power. Her mother didn't consent to her apprenticeship with me until last year, so she is further behind in her studies than I had planned, but I do not believe her time in this world is at an end.”

She brought the bowl to Sansa, and anointed her with it. “Shall we begin?”

Sandor nodded, unsure of what was expected or what was going on. 

“Strip her completely. I will sew up the wound.” The witch pulled Sansa's tunic up to inspect the hole the sword had made. “Where that boy got an anti-magic sword is a mystery. One for later,” she said harshly, as Sandor started to growl. “We must tend your wife first. One thing is for certain. If it was you on this table, she would do everything she could to make things right.”

Sandor nodded again and began to undress his little bird. 

**********

Her skin was so pale. He watched as the witch chanted the words that would supposedly bring Sansa back to life. 

She held her hands above Sansa's stomach as she chanted. He stared intently, feeling the building of magic. It was white hot, fierce as a tornado. 

He gasped as a piercing pain went through his chest. The red witch took no notice of him as he fell. Fire. He was on fire.  _ Not again! _ He slammed his hand on the rock table and began to pull himself shakily to his feet. His eyes were now level with the witch’s hands and he saw the magic concentrated, gathering mere inches above Sansa's skin. Not just any magic.  _ Fire magic. _ He shot his hand out to stop it, but it was too late. Sansa's body erupted into flames. He barely managed to duck in time. 

“What have you done?!” he roared, but the witch had been flung back and knocked unconscious. He stood before the altar Sansa lay on, helpless as he had been the last time he had seen fire magic.  _ At least she's already dead. At least I don't have to hear her screams. _

“S-Sandor?”

He watched in horror as Sansa sat up, still engulfed in flames. She sounded...not right. Like an echo within an echo. She reached for him and he took a step back before he could stop himself. 

“Sandor? Why are you scared? It's me, Sansa. Your little bird.” She looked confused, sad, lonely...hurt. He felt his heart breaking. How could he forsake her now? If he was going to die by flames, at least it would be with her in his arms. 

“Not scared, little bird. Just startled. All better now.” He took her hand, ignoring the pain from the fire. Slowly he embraced her. She was like a Phoenix, made of pure fire. “I love you, Sansa,” he whispered, kissing her one last time before the flames engulfed them both. 

**********

He opened his eyes, and immediately closed them again. The sun was too bright and Sansa was curled up next to him. Why would he want to disturb this scene? There was no fire at his heels to make him-- Fire?  _ Fire. _

He sat up. He was still in the rocky clearing, naked as the day he was born with only a thin blanket covering both him and Sansa, and lying on the stone altar with her. She was still asleep.  _ And alive! _ He looked around for the witch. 

“Well, that was something I do not wish to do again. My apologies for your clothing. I should have had you remove it as well, but I had no idea it would play out like that. It burned off in the fire,” the witch said, handing him two robes. “You are pleased with the results, however?” She looked down at Sansa. “I know she is. Take some time, come to my hut when you are ready.”

Sandor nodded. The witch left them, giving them some needed privacy. He got up from the altar and draped the robes over the spot he vacated. Sansa moaned a complaint and started moving towards him. He smiled, not a pretty sight, but she liked to see him smile. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was able to return it.

“Sandor...good morning.” She rose up, wiping the sleep from her eyes. He took in the naked vision before him with much joy. Sansa looked him over as well, a smile growing on her face. “Oh, it’s that sort of morning?” she said, scooting over to his side of the altar, her long legs hooking around his waist and pulling him closer. “Because that would make a  _ great _ morning indeed.” She pulled him down for a kiss, her soft tongue asking for entrance to his mouth.  _ As if she has to ask. _ “Ah, so eager, husband. I am too.”

“Really, couldn’t tell,” he teased, his cock pressed between them. Fuck, he really wanted her, but now was not the time. “But we probably shouldn’t do this on the witch’s altar.” 

Sansa pulled back from him, looking confused. “Witch’s...altar?” She looked around. “Oh! Mistress Melisandre’s forest temple. I think she’s had an orgy or two here before, so I doubt she would mind it much, to be honest. How did we get here?”

He sighed, and picked up one of the robes to put over her. Probably best to not have distractions while they had their talk. “What do you remember? From when we arrived to your village.” He took the second robe and put it on. It covered him, but it barely reached his knees. 

“We got to the village. The villagers came out to greet us.” She tilted her head so that she was looking at the sky. “So blue…” she said. “Oh...Robb stabbed me. We got to the village, Father was upset, and Robb was, too. Father calmed down, but Robb didn’t. He attacked you.”

“And you somehow exchanged places with me…”

“And got stabbed with an anti-magic sword,” she finished for him. “How did I know what it was? And that magic couldn’t be used to heal it.” She shook her head. He didn’t have answers for that either. “I...I died, didn’t I?” She looked so sad, Sandor didn’t want to tell her the truth, but he gave a slight nod. “But, then how am I here? This isn’t the afterlife. Is it?”

He chuckled. “No, little bird. It’s not. I don’t know how it happened. It was fire magic. My experience with it has been less than...satisfactory,” he motioned to his burn scar. “And I wasn’t interested in pursuing knowledge of it after that.” She touched his cheek and he could practically see her wish to take away the hurt he had felt. He appreciated the thought, but he wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy, much less the woman he loved. “If you’re ready, the witch can explain more. She’s waiting for us.”

“Alright. Will you help me down, please?” She held her arms out to him. So trusting. He hefted her up like a bag of flour before she could stop him. She shrieked with delight. “Sandor!” 

He smacked her ass playfully. “What? I’m helping.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a break. Not sure when I'll be posting the next chapter, but it will be on a Monday.


	10. Part 2, Chapter 2

The witch had tea ready for them, though Sandor wished it was a good sour wine, considering everything they had been through. She had supplied them with clothes that kept them warmer than the robes. The “temple” had been warm enough on its own, but once they stepped out of the temple, they were sorely reminded that the season was winter.

“There is more to this world than even you know of, Mage Sandor Clegane,” the witch told him. “Ancient prophecies, the gods, magic itself. It is born, it lives, it dies, sometimes in the span of a human life, sometimes within a human.” She turned to Sansa. “You, my dear, are one such human. You were born of pure magic. A perfect moment of love between two people. That is not to say that your parents do not love each other the rest of the time, just that in the moment of your conception, there was no other emotion burdening either of them. It is very rare.”

“Melisandre, how can I have magic? I’m not able to _do_ anything, not like Sandor or you can,” Sansa protested.

The witch chuckled. “Well, of course not! You haven’t been properly trained. And you _have_ done something. Something irrational and reckless, but it was to protect the one you love, so I cannot judge you too harshly.”

“What are you talking about?” Sandor asked, frowning at the woman.

“How do you think you ended up several paces behind where you were originally standing, and she, who you shoved to safety, was in the position you had previously been in? She unknowingly used magic.” The witch took a sip of her tea. “She didn’t know she did, but I was there and watching.”

“And what about after she…” he struggled with his words. “After she died, what was that ritual about? You used fire magic--”

“My specialty, I might add.”

“You used fire magic! We should both be burnt to a crisp!” he shouted. “Instead… Instead, Sansa is alive again, and I...I’m feeling better than ever before. Fire magic is destructive, not restorative.”

The witch sighed heavily, a sad look in her eyes as she looked at his burns. He refused to cow to her gaze. “What do you know of--”

An explosion came from outside. Sansa ran out first, Sandor hot on her heels. He didn’t even bother seeing if the witch followed. Black smoke was coming from one of the houses… the Starks! He picked up his pace, now taking point for Sansa. If something was happening, he’d rather be in between her and the danger. She may have magic, but she was like a newborn chick right now. Given time and training, she would grow into a full fledged mage, but she had to survive first.

They skidded to a stop in front of the Stark household. A quick headcount showed that nearly all the Starks had made it out. The only one missing was--

“ROBB!” Sansa screamed. Sandor had to stop her from running into the burning building, but fortunately, the idiot brother came stumbling out. Father Stark caught him before he fell and dragged him further away from the building. Other villagers were hustling to put out the spreading fire. Sandor knew their panic well, and while he hadn’t studied fire magic further, _water magic_ was something he took great pride in. His second teacher had been a water nymph, and Wizard Manderly knew his craft well.

“Sansa, watch me carefully,” he said, stepping closer to the burning house. He held his hands up in front of him and focused his power. Elemental magic was simpler to use than incantations or spells, but it required a lot more concentration. He felt it building, becoming hyper aware of the small droplets of water that were in the air, the snow on the ground, and he _pushed_ gently. Too much would be worse than letting the fire thrive, too little and it would be useless. He felt traces of magic within the fire, too small to really identify, but enough to know it was there. He heard the hiss of the fire as it slowly died and the astonishment of his goodfamily. When he felt the last flame die out, he relaxed his magic and opened his eyes. Then immediately jumped back.

The simple one, Lollys, was standing in front of him with sparkles in her eyes. Bronn was off to the side, trying to hold back laughter at the interaction. “My goodness! How did you do that? Can you teach me?”

“Uh...maybe. Depends on if you have magic or not.” He had doubts that she did. She turned to Sansa, dropped her jaw, then was hugging her like her life depended on it.

“Sansa? Sansa!” Catelyn shrieked, pulled Lollys off and grasped her daughter into a tight hug. “But you died! We saw you die!”

“Mother…” The hug looked painful. “I...I’m… Can we talk about this later? I’m alive... That’s what matters.”

Sandor had to wait for the rest of the family to hug and kiss Sansa. Arya hugged her the longest, and Sansa whispered in her ear, causing her to laugh. When he finally had her back to himself, the family gathering around Robb again, he asked, “Did you notice anything when I put the fire out? Besides the obvious?”

She looked at him, taking a moment to register the question. “Oh, the...the air. It felt different. Drier? Less dense? Tingled.”

“Good. Essentially, I collected water from our surroundings to quench the fire,” he told her. “You’ll be able to do it, too, someday. First thing is show you, before you can try. Before anything else though,” he turned to his goodfamily, “What happened?”

Most of them shook their heads, not knowing the answer. The youngest, however, was glaring at Robb, who was being attended to by their mother. It did not escape Sansa’s notice. “Rickon,” she said, her voice soft and comforting, “do you know what happened?”

The boy looked in disgust at Robb and motioned to Sandor to follow him. Sansa stayed with her family and Lollys, while Bronn followed the two.

“I just want to say, that I never really believed in the demon or magic,” he said to Sandor. “Not before you came back with my sister. If this had happened before that…” His jaw clenched and he glanced at Robb. “I don’t know what my brother had gotten mixed up in, but it’s nothing good, nor is it natural. I believe the seer calls it _supernatural._ Last week, someone came to the village under the cover of night. Robb was on patrol duty, and I couldn’t sleep. Arya and I like to play a game sometimes, see how long we can sneak around the village without getting caught. We were playing that night. I was following Robb, and I saw this person come out of the shadows. Literally come out of the shadows. At the time, I thought it must surely be a trick of the eyes. He or she stopped Robb and told him that our sister, Sansa, was in danger. That she was being tricked by the demon, and would bring him back here in human form, telling us she was in love with him, but that it was not true, that the demon would destroy us all, and enslave Sansa to his perversions, use her as a weapon. The figure told him that Sansa was special, born to a greater magic that had only been seen two times since the world was created. It gave him a sword, said it would allow him to kill the demon and save our sister. Once Sansa was free from...well, _you,_ Robb was going to give her to this person for her own protection. I saw Robb acting kind of funny and I followed him. It was _that person._  It came to collect Sansa, but when Robb told it what happened, it went ballistic and threw...something. I don’t know what it was, but it knocked Robb off his feet. I ran to get our parents, then I heard the explosion. I can only assume it had to do with that person.”

“Doesn’t sound good, boss,” Bronn said. Sandor raised an eyebrow at him. He had a habit of slipping back into that sellsword persona when things got rough. Clearly, he thought this was not the end of it. Sandor didn’t think it was either.

**********

The damage from the fire was not as bad as it first appeared. Only the room it had started in would need heavy repairs, though the rest of the house had damage from the smoke. Sandor could have fixed it with magic, but he wanted to limit his use of it. Magic was like a drug that could easily be abused if one didn’t learn discipline and control. He didn’t want Sansa’s family to become dependent on it.

The repairs on the house wouldn't start for a few days, however, so Sandor devoted his time to building a transport stone. He had an extra temporary house, large enough to fit his entire goodfamily in it, and offered to house them for the time being.

“Rickon and Bran will be staying with friends. Arya already lives at the arms master’s home, since she is his apprentice. It will just be my wife, my son Robb, and myself,” Ned told him. The man was quiet, thoughtful. Sandor decided he liked him. Bronn would be staying with them as well, since Lollys’ mother wouldn't allow him to stay with the family until they were officially married.

Sansa’s mother, on the other hand… “Absolutely not! You can't marry him!”

“Mother, we are already married,” Sansa said patiently. “We just want to hold a small ceremony so that the entire village can celebrate--”

“No! I will not have my daughter married to the Demon of the Woods!”

“Cat,” Ned said, trying to calm her down. “They are not children, he is not the Demon any longer, and we do not follow the old ways any longer. As long as she is happy, I approve of this marriage.”

“But he's--”

“A good man from what I've seen so far, and besides, if you don't concede, they will not be able to visit and what if they have children? Those children, your grandchildren, won't be visiting either,” Ned said, placing his hands on Catelyn’s shoulders. She almost looked like she was hypnotized by her husband. “They say they are already married, there is nothing you can do about it, except to _accept_ it.”

“But she could do so much better! Harry, or even Joffrey…” Catelyn whined.

Ned raised an eyebrow at his wife. “Better than a Mage? Harry? The man who has four children by three women? Or Joffrey, the man who oftentimes gets beaten up because he can't keep his awful words to himself? Those two are better than a Mage?”

“Well, not when you put it like that!” Catelyn said in a huff. “Fine. Small ceremony, tomorrow, a feast for the village after? Does that make you happy?”

“Extremely. Does it make you happy, daughter?” he asked Sansa, kissing his wife on the forehead.

“Yes, Father,” she replied, beaming at her parents even as Catelyn sulked.

**********

Sandor spent the remainder of the day with Sansa and the red witch, looking for a suitably sized stone to use for the transport.

“So fire magic?” he asked out of the blue. He was helping Sansa down from a rock. They were headed into a nearby quarry. The red witch looked up at him.

“What about it?”

“You...you used it to heal...to bring Sansa back to life. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” He had only known one other to come back from death, but he didn’t think fire magic was involved. He would have to ask the next time he saw his former teacher.

“It’s rare,” she said, hopping down. “Most followers of R’hllor use fire for visions, seeing the future. Some use it for destruction. A select few can use it for healing, and even less can use it to bring the dead back to life. Have you heard of Azor Ahai?”

“Isn't he the hero who saved these lands a thousand years ago?” Sansa asked.

“Yes, child. He was prophesied to be _reborn,_ and it was a worshiper of R’hllor that brought him back from the dead. He went on to save the kingdom from the Others, but we suffered much. We're still not as great a kingdom as we once were.”

“What's your point?” he asked gruffly.

“Sandor…”

“Don't worry, child. He has apprehension about it. My point is that Azor Ahai was the last known person to be raised by R’hllor. Sansa here is the first in a thousand years, give or take a few. That is how rare this magic is.” She pointed to a large stone. “How about this one?”

He bent down to examine it. “How do you know someone else hasn't done it? Not exactly near a place that gets news of the outside world that often. This stone is a possibility.” He marked it with some chalk. “I'd like to find at least two more before we head back.” Sansa had wandered off, but he could still see her.

“All priests and priestesses can communicate through the fire. A feat such as this does not stay secret for long. I already informed my fellow R’hllor worshippers of what I accomplished. Where did you learn your craft? Fire magic is usually taught in foundation training.” She walked alongside him, keeping an eye on Sansa as well.

“Originally, I was taken in by a sorceress, Cersei Lannister of the Casterly Rock clan. There was an incident when I was young.” He pointed to his face. “And after I healed, I was unable to even light a match, my fear of it was so great. She excused me from learning it. Oddly enough, it wasn't until after I was cursed that I came to know and be friends with her kin, neither of which is magically inclined.”

“You are still friendly with her then?” She smiled and waved over at Sansa, who was calling them over to a large rock.

“No, we had a falling out when I was eighteen. I went to another teacher, Wyman Manderly of the White Harbor clan. After that, from Beric Dondarrion. I learned from him and his companions. A few years later, I was cursed, but I had already learned as much as I could from them.” They had joined Sansa, who was hopping around in excitement. Sandor grinned at her and gave the rock a preliminary check. “Looks good,” he told her and marked it with his chalk. She danced away happily to find another candidate. "There's something I have to ask. The message I sent you, did it really not come through correctly? What you told the villagers was not what I sent."

The witch smiled at him. "I may have taken some artistic liberties." He raised an eyebrow at her. "I did what I needed to do. Eventually, you will understand the whole picture, but for now, do you think you would be as sure about your relationship with her if she hadn't been given the choice to go?"

Sandor stared at the red woman. _Does she mean..._

“She has an innate talent for finding materials for magic,” the witch said, distracting him from his thoughts. “I would not be surprised if this one is perfect for your transport.”

“You've been training her?”

“Not directly in magic. Her mother would have had my head. No, it was just in basic knowledge. Herbs, crystals, healing, that sort of thing. Her power didn't manifest until she ran into you, or rather until she joined with you.”

He whipped his head around to stare at her.

“Oh, please, I've been in much more compromising situations,” she scoffed. “Having premarital relations with a demon dog doesn't even crack the top ten.” He continued to stare at her. “I'm older than I look and have lived in far more populated places than my current location.”

“What are you doing here then?”

“I was called here. Same as you, I suspect.”

Sandor didn't answer. They kept searching. By the time they had to head back, Sansa had found two more stones to use. All three of them were perfect for transport magic.


	11. Part 2, Chapter 3

The ceremony the next day was short and sweet. Sandor felt a little disappointed that it was so rushed, but Sansa seemed fine with it, even pounced on him when Elder Baratheon declared them husband and wife. Bronn whistled, Lollys and Arya clapped with excitement, Sansa’s brothers seemed more or less fine with it, except Robb, but Robb was a prick who tried to kill him and had succeeded in killing Sansa, so he could go fuck a goat for all Sandor cared. Ned was very welcoming, while Sansa’s mother was chilly at best. She was also welcome to that goat.

Bronn and Lollys had their ceremony right after. Sandor would have preferred they go first, but Elder Baratheon insisted Sandor and Sansa start things off, especially after Sandor asked to go second. Sansa whispered to him that the elder was probably angry as he had hoped Sansa would marry his son, but she hated the boy. “He’s cruel,” was all she said on the matter. 

Sandor enjoyed the feast, even danced with Sansa whenever she asked, and with Arya twice. She threatened his life if any harm ever came to Sansa. When he pointed out that he wasn’t the one who got her killed, she said, “He will pay for it. Don’t worry.” Sandor had felt a chill go through him and he didn’t feel comfortable until the dance ended. 

“I wish we didn’t have to stay in the same house as my parents. Especially on our wedding night,” Sansa said to him after the last dance. She was holding his hand as they walked. “Second wedding night, but still.”

“It’ll make our first night alone together that much sweeter,” he offered. She gave him a look and he chuckled. “I still need to speak to your brother, Robb. The youngest one provided me some information, Rickon, I think?”

“Yes, Rickon. Well, Robb’s been drinking heavily tonight. He gets a loose tongue when he’s drunk. He'll be more likely to answer questions right now. And I'd prefer holding off on seeing my mother again, so why don't we go talk to Robb?”

“We?” He was surprised but liked that she wanted to help. 

She grinned. “You didn't think I'd leave you alone on our  _ wedding night, _ did you? Besides, you need me to translate drunk Robb-speak.” 

He barked a laugh. “I suppose I do. Not your usual wedding night activities though.”

She shrugged, still grinning. “So we're not the usual sort. I'm perfectly fine with that. If I wanted the usual, I wouldn't have gone on your quest. I wouldn't have been in the woods to begin with.”

“That would have been a shame indeed,” he said, pulling her towards the tree line. The remaining revelry of the party was a dim hum in the distance as they took a few steps into the woods. “I need you, wife.”

She smiled as he gently pushed her against a tree. She opened her mouth to say something but he kissed her instead. Moving along her jawline, he kissed his way down to her throat, to a particular spot he had noticed earlier that she liked having sucked and kissed. 

He lifted her skirt and delved his hand into her undergarments, finding her slit with his finger. She moaned and held onto him as he played with her clit and dipped his fingers into her. 

“Husband...Sandor…” she pleaded. “Please…”

“Please what?” he asked innocently.

“Please…make love to me...fuck me.” She bit her lip to keep herself from getting too loud. Sound would carry across the field and they didn't need anyone investigating strange sounds. 

“As you wish,” he whispered in her ear, pulling her undergarments off and tucking them into his coat pocket. It was still cold, but neither really noticed. She was busy undoing his trousers and freeing his cock. He was just enjoying the view for the moment, and even more so when she knelt down and took him in her mouth. She was a novice, but it felt nice and he didn't want to come in her mouth right now anyway. It served to make him good and fully hard. 

He extracted himself from her and then lifted her up. He didn't even need a levitation spell, she was easy to lift and move about. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he told her. She did so, then wrapped her hand around his cock, guiding him to her cunt. She moaned with relief when he entered her. “Such a wanton little wife I have,” he said. 

She laughed, her cunt squeezing him as she did. “Only with you.”

“You were never tempted, not even once?” he asked, moving in and out of her slowly. He licks his lips as he voiced his worry. “Not even by the Imp?”

“I only thought of being taken by you on that tree stump he seems to favor,” she muttered. “When Shae was instructing us, it was you I was imagining…”

“Sansa…” He kissed her deeply as he thrust into her. Her fingers laced through his hair and she murmured his name against his lips. He felt her legs tighten on his waist as her climax hit her. He set her on her feet and turned her around, entering her from behind. She clung to the tree for dear life, chanting his name. It wasn't long before he came. 

**********

They found Robb crumpled on the bed in the room provided to him, singing softly to himself of golden haired angels. “He's completely fucked,” Sansa said, shaking her head. 

“I really am a bad influence on you, aren't I?”

She shrugged. “I rather enjoy your influence on me.” He laughed quietly as she knelt next to Robb. “Robb, wakey wakey. I have to ask you something.” Sandor had already told Sansa everything Rickon had told him and they had both agreed that while he may be in the room, Sandor should  _ not _ be the one to question him.

“Mrfl…Sanna?” Robb slurred. “Wha izt?”

“Robb, I need you to answer some questions for me. Someone gave you a sword, remember?”

“Dmen sord?”

“Yes...it’s called a demon sword?”

“Culled mjek sluy sard...sord… Sarp sord. Kill demuns. Damons trup preeety girls, trep you. Nyyce pursen giv me eet.”

“Can you tell me more about this nice person? Do you know their name?”

“Naaaauuuuuu...nooo...no naym…”

“Alright. Was there anything significant that you remember about this person?”

“Yaaasssss…. Noo? Shuddows. Shuddowy. Werd voce. Weeee-ir-duh. Vooooyyyyy-suh!” Robb giggled. “Dreemwhen. Sud you love...leeven dreemwind.” Robb flipped over onto his back and tried to take his shirt off. It got stuck on his face, and they could both hear loud snoring soon after that.

Once back in their own room, Sansa translated the drunk-speak to Sandor. “Magic Slay Sword, a sharp sword. It can kill demons. Demons trap pretty girls, trap you, meaning me. A nice person gave it to him. No name was given, they were shadowed with a weird voice. Dreamwind. They said I would live in Dreamwind. Does that mean anything to you?”

Sandor shook his head. “I’ve heard it before, but I don’t remember from where or what it is.”

“Maybe Melisandre knows? It’s late now, but she’ll likely be up with the dawn.”

“Alright. We’ll talk to her in the morning.

**********

“Dreamwind? Where on earth did you hear that?” she asked them. They were back in the red witch’s hut, and all Sandor wanted to do was finish the transport stone and get his little bird back to their underground castle, but someone was after him, and had tried to use his goodfamily to not only kill him but also steal his wife. It was better to get them first, before they tried again.

“You know it then?”

“Yes, it’s said to be a legend, a myth. No one knows if it's actually real. There is one text about it, but it's rare and hard to find. It's called ‘Sanctuary of--’”

“Sanctuary of the Gods,” Sandor finished for her. 

“You know it?” she asked, surprised. 

“I thought the place sounded familiar. I read that book in my early studies. My first teacher had a copy, but it was my third teacher that insisted I read it all the way through. He should still have it.”

“You will be going on another quest, my dear,” the red witch said to Sansa. “Make sure you continue your meditations daily. I know you've been slacking off.”

Sansa looked sheepish, but nodded. “Yes, Melisandre.” 

Before returning to the temporary house, Sandor decided it would be a good idea to check the places the shadowy figure had been spotted. “Might find some lingering traces of magic, if we're lucky.”

Melisandre decided to join them. She was upset with herself for not knowing that someone had been in the village. “My prized pupil would have been absconded from beneath my very nose and I would not have known!” she huffed. 

Sandor didn't remark on it, but he knew it ran a bit deeper than that. That bone chilling horror that ran through his body when he learned of the plot must have gone through the red witch as well.  _ Is she being targeted because of me? Or because of her unusual magic? _ If it was because of him, then why kill him? It would be more effective to keep him alive and kidnap her or kill her outright. Both would bring his wrath upon whoever the culprit was, and he was known to be cruel for reasons other than his time as a demon. No one would dare it unless  _ she _ was the prize, and it made more sense to kill him, which had been attempted.  _ So she was the target, and I was merely an obstacle. I can live with that. Easier to know that than to know she was in danger because of me. Whoever the fucker is, they will be no less dead by my hand. _

They reached the first spot, after consulting with Rickon, and Sandor was startled to feel absolutely no magic whatsoever. Sansa hugged herself, shivering from the same feeling. “It feels so dead here,” she said. She knelt beside a flower pot, the plant it contained was withered and dead. 

“Whoever was here was thorough,” Melisandre said. “They not only wiped their presence, they wiped out magic that may have mingled with theirs.” She turned to Sansa. “Magic isn't just something special. It's also a basic component of our world. Magic is in everything and everyone, to a certain extent. Your Mage here has more magic in him than the rest of the village put together. I have little magic, but it is enough to tap into the magic of the world around me.”

Sansa stroked the dried leaves of the dead flowers. “And me? How much magic do I hold?”

Sandor offered her his hand, helping her back to a standing position. “Don't know yet. We'll figure it out soon enough.”

She held his hand as they all walked away. A jingle of magic caught his attention. He turned and saw the dead plant had a new bloom.  _ Shit...I need to get her assessed soon. _

**********

The visit to the burnt room in the Stark home had similar results. It felt dead and no magical trace of the shadowy figure could be found. Physical, on the other hand… Sandor found some blood residue on the floor. Rickon had said a blast had propelled Robb backward, but he hadn't described a fireball, the easiest magic to throw at an opponent. That left either wind magic, or the essence of the unknown person. This was assuming the person hadn't enacted a spell, but Rickon had said the person was angry, so theoretically, they didn't have the presence of mind to do something like that and acted on instinct. 

He collected the blood into a vial, levitating it from the dirt, trying to keep them separated as much as possible. “What are you going to do with it?” Sansa asked. 

“Make an identity charm. I can't track the magic, but I can make a charm that will light up when it's within range of whoever it belongs to. Need to rule out if it belongs to anyone who lives in the house, or may have visited, but I suspect this is the blood of the person who gave your brother the sword.”

“Magic is complicated.”

“That it is, little bird. But, where there is a will, there is a way. Trust me, I  _ will _ find this person and I will make sure you are safe from them.”

“That we  _ both _ are safe, Sandor. My safety means nothing if you're not with me,” she said in a soft voice. 

He kissed the top of her head. He felt the same. They spent the remainder of the day working on creation of the transport stone. Sandor shrunk the other stones down to a manageable size to keep for later. He decided it would be best to place the stone outside of the village, just in case someone malicious used it. He also set up a bell that would ring in the elders meeting lodge. There was always someone there, so any visitors via the stone would not escape their notice. 

They left the morning after. Sandor had brought enough supplies to deal with creating the transport stone, but would need to deal with the identity charm in his workshop. Bronn and Lollys came with them. Wedded and bedded, they were both eager to get away from Lollys’ mother, who had begun talking about Bronn moving to the village. Sandor was sympathetic to his friend and got them out of there as soon as they were all ready. 

“You sure you don't want me to come with you, boss?” Bronn asked when they  arrived at his cottage. 

“Yeah. You have a new wife to look after, a family to start. Plus, Sansa would kill me if I robbed her friend of a husband. If I need you, I'll call for you. Just have a pack ready.”

“Got it, boss.”

“And knock off the ‘boss’ shit. You know I hate it,” Sandor growled. 

“Got it, boss,” Bronn said with a shit eating grin on his face. Sandor would have punched him if their wives weren't in view. 

**********

“What about Jaime and Brienne?”

“We’ll get them once we’re done here.” It was a bit odd to be alone with Sansa in the huge castle, when they had previously had other people around them. She held his hand as they walked the halls. 

“How long will it take?”

“Initial spell casting will only take an hour or so, but the spell needs to steep after it has been applied the the charm, which takes close to twenty hours.” He looked at his pocketwatch. “If I start now, then we can be on the move again first thing day after tomorrow with a full night’s sleep.”

“Can I watch?”

“Of course,” he said.

He spent the next hour meticulously explaining what was going into the production of the charm. Sansa wrote equally meticulous notes, and was able to understand it for the most part. Charms were on the lower end of intermediate magical items, so it was quite impressive.

They were interrupted by the loud gurgling of Sandor’s stomach. He laughed, sheepish that he had ignored basic bodily needs. “I can make us some lunch,” Sansa offered. “I’m rather hungry, too.

Sandor had a special caldron he got off a giant having a yard sale, that made any food he desired, so long as he had the right ingredients in his kitchen. He had never cooked a day in his life, nor had he ever intended to become involved with anything kitchen related. However, he was curious about Sansa’s cooking, and the thought of a meal made by the hands of his loving wife did have a certain appeal. “I’ll show you to the kitchen. I can help, too.”

**********

“Charm’s done.” He was standing in front of the large caldron, different from the meal producing one, that he had left the spell to stew in. It had simmered down to a small crystal, about the size of his thumbnail. Sansa peered at it. 

“It's pretty.” She sounded surprised. He gave it her for further examination. 

“Blood crystals tend to be, for some reason. Anyway, we just have to make sure this doesn't react to any of your family members, then we can set off to find this dead man.”

“Dead man?”

“He will be, as soon as I get my hands on him,” Sandor growled. 

**********

The return to her parents’ village proved fruitful. Sansa had used some wire and a leather strap to make it into a bracelet. It was such a small crystal, she was worried they might lose it by accident. Sandor insisted that she wear it, since she would need to know who it was more than him.

Her sister was impressed by it. “Could you make one of my blood?”

“If you want. To what end?” Sandor asked.

Arya shrugged. “Just seems like a neat thing to have. Does it need a purpose?”

“S’pose not, but it’s unusual. I’ll think about it.” Arya seemed satisfied with his answer, but followed them around as they went to check on the other Starks, and a few of the family friends that likely had been in that room. The crystal reacted to none of them.

Sansa said her goodbyes to her parents, Catelyn glowering at Sandor the entire time and Sandor imagining her getting headbutted by a bull into next week. Ned surprised him by hugging him. “Keep my girl safe, you hear me?” he said quietly. They hadn’t told her parents what they were going to do, but Ned was quite observant. 

“Will do, sir.”

They saw Sandor and Sansa off to the newly constructed transport stone. Sansa has carved in one of the runes herself. It had taken her awhile, but she had been patient and steady in her work. Sandor had to admit she had done a very good job on it for a beginner. Arya came marching up behind Ned and Catelyn, a knapsack over her shoulder and a thin sword strapped to her hip.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Catelyn asked with a frown.

“Going with them.”

“No, you’re not, you’re staying right here!” Catelyn said with force. Ned lowered his head and shook it. Sandor felt sorry for the man. 

“No, mother. I’m going. And you can’t stop me.” She walked onto the transport. “Someone has to give this big galoot some support in protecting Sansa, and I’m not about to trust Robb with that task.” None of them could object to that, though Catelyn did try. Sandor set off the transport before she got too far into her rant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another adventure!


	12. Part 2, Chapter 4

They went to Tyrion’s clearing first to pick up Jaime and Brienne. “You want to stay here a bit longer, or go back home? It might be a while until I return,” he told them.

Tyrion and Shae were absent. Jaime motioned to Tyrion’s little house when Sansa had inquired about them. Sandor wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but the house seemed to sway just ever so slightly. _‘Well, damn. That’s impressive.’_

“Master, please let us come with you,” Brienne said with more force than Sandor ever expected from her.

“Uh… You can just call me Clegane now, you know...”

“As much as I have enjoyed meeting and being around my brother-in-law…” she said, nervously looking in the direction of the house. Sandor was almost positive now it was swaying. “I think it would be better if we leave with you.”

“What she means is, Tyrion and Shae are lovely, but they have so much sex, it’s obscene. And this is coming from a man who loves having sex.”

Brienne was a very interesting shade of red, nearly matching Sansa. Sandor took pity on the women. “You’re welcome to join us. Could use the help.” Not really, but he felt bad for Brienne, and he felt like she and Arya would get along. Jaime and Arya as well, considering how much Arya was laughing with the man.

They stayed for an hour, Sandor packed up the temporary house, and there didn’t seem to be any sign Tyrion and Shae would emerge anytime soon, so Jaime left a note for him, including a scolding for Tyrion not being around to say goodbye. Sandor had a feeling it wouldn’t deter Tyrion much. The Imp was far too interested in fucking.

“Will we be doing the non-stone transport again?” Sansa looked worried. He held her hand, giving her a soft squeeze.

“Yes, but I have an idea of what happened before. I believe your magic was simply too raw, and when it came in contact with the spell, it overloaded. Melisandre agreed with my assessment. Hold on to me, let me act as a grounding agent, and it should be fine. The others will do as before. Brienne, Jaime, Arya.” The three of them turned to him. “Sit in the center of the transport stone and hold on to each other. Things are going to get a bit bumpy.”

Once everyone was in place, he ignited the spell in the transport stone.

**********

The trip was considerably smoother for Sansa this time around. Sandor felt the surge of her power as it reacted to the transport and channeled it into the spell, though once they landed in the barren wasteland, he felt like every part of his body had been slightly electrified. He was again reminded that he would need to have her magic assessed soon. Fortunately, Beric would be able to help with that. Unfortunately, the Brotherhood Without Banners was a nomadic tribe of wizards, warlocks, and magicians. Without a guiding point, the best he could do was get them to the general area. It was warmer here than in the Dark Woods, and they took a few moments to shed their winter clothing.

“Whoa, does that spell always do this?” Arya asked, looking down at the runes burnt into the ground.

“Yes, it had no place here, so it forces one. That’s why a stone is necessary. It becomes an anchor for the spell, allows for more stable connections.”

“And you didn’t set one up for these people because…?” Arya was looking at him like he was an idiot.

He glared at her. _“Because_ they are never in the same place for more than a week and they refuse to let me give them an anchor they can carry with them. Fuckin’ paranoid bastards think the lords of the realm are out to get them. They might be right. Anyway, the best I can do is get us within a reasonable distance.”

“How do we find them?” Brienne looked a bit shaken, paler than usual. They all did for that matter.

“We don’t. They find us. Shouldn’t be long.”

**********

It took an hour.

“You’re losing your touch, Thoros,” Sandor said. Lem and Harwin were with him. Lem was eyeing Sansa, who was glaring back. “I expected you to find us more than half an hour ago. Where’s Beric? Need to speak to him. Need to borrow a book, too.”

“Clegane. Nice to see you, too. Beric’s out on a mission. I can probably help you in his stead.” Thoros looked like he was competing for the filthiest priest award. His red robes looked more like black and his normally red hair was darkened by soot from his fire.

“Lose the acolytes. My associates could use some rest as well.”

“What’sa matter, demon Hound? Don’t trust us?” Lem asked, still looking at Sansa. “I’ll be happy to keep this one company.”

“Touch my sister, and you’ll be be missing some appendages,” Arya snarled.

“Spicy little sausage,” Lem said, laughing. “Maybe I can keep you company instead?”

“You’ll be missing more than _some_ appendages if you get anywhere near me,” she promised, her hand resting casually on her sword. Lem looked her up and down carefully before backing away.

Harwin was trying to not laugh and failing. “Come on, Lem. We’re clearly not wanted here, you more than me, and Thoros can take care of himself.”

“Fine. Lunch should be ready anyway.” Lem shot one last look at Arya, then walked off. Brienne, Jaime and Arya followed along with Harwin. Sansa tried to follow as well, but Sandor held her hand tightly, watching until they disappeared, hidden behind the cloaked barriers of the Brotherhood’s camp.

“They’re gone. What’s so damn secret you can’t tell them? They were your brothers once,” Thoros said quietly.

“They weren’t even my friends. Don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

“Don’t have to be friends to be brothers. You can trust them.”

“Maybe it’s safer for them to not know. Ever think of that? Notice three of my group went with them.” Thoros shook his head. “Beric had me read a book back in my time here. ‘Sanctuary of the Gods.’ I need to see it.”

“Not a problem. Should be in his library. And the other thing? Whatever it is that you didn’t want the others to hear.”

Sandor took a deep breath. “Thoros, allow me to introduce Sansa, my wife.”

“Oh!”

“She has magic, is untrained, and needs to be evaluated. Need to know the extent of her power.”

“Oh… You need Beric for that. Most I can tell you is if she has it or not, which you already know. You started her training?”

“Need that evaluation first.” Sandor squeezed Sansa’s hand. “Just been telling her about theories, showing her various things, having her make observations when I do something. No practical applications yet.”

“I’ve been doing my meditations,” she said. “Melisandre would have my hide if I slacked off again.”

“Meditations, child?” Thoros asked.

“Oh, um, yes. Mistress Melisandre has me meditate for an hour each day. I didn’t do it for several weeks as I had other things on my mind…” She blushed and Sandor grinned. “Anyway, she has me clear my mind, then has me concentrate on various scenes.”

“Scenes? What sort of scenes?”

“A ravine filling during a landslide. A lightning storm. A river flowing into the ocean. A volcano erupting. Clouds moving against the sky. A tree growing in the forest. Scenes like that.”

“Hmmm…” Thoros said. “Elemental image training. That’s an excellent choice she made. Helps you learn focus.”

“She’s a red witch, like you.” Sandor smirked at the twitch above Thoros’ eye.

“I’m a red _priest._ Not a witch. Just as this Melisandre is a red _priestess,_ you ass.”

“Actually, she does identify as a witch,” Sansa interjected. “She told me once that her skills have surpassed that of ‘a mere priestess.’ Her words, not mine.”

Thoros raised his eyebrows as he considered her words. “Well, I stand corrected then.”

“So when do you expect Beric to return?” Sandor asked.

“Well...not really certain. He’s ah...he’s kind of…” Thoros was unusually flustered.

“Spit it out, man.”

“He’s missing.”

Sandor blinked. “Missing? He’s one of the strongest mages in this land, only I...and possibly Cersei, are more powerful. How can he be _missing?”_

Thoros shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “I don’t know. No one knows. We’ve been sending out search parties, but no luck.”

“What was he doing?”

“Some king hired him to rescue his daughter. Should have been simple enough, but that was three weeks ago.”

Sandor snorted. “Probably got distracted by something. I’ll find him. I’ll be taking that book with me though.”

Thoros guided them over to the camp barrier. “As you will, Clegane.”

**********

Jaime was challenging Lem to an arm wrestling competition as Sandor and Sansa ate. Brienne was sitting off to the side, awaiting the inevitable moment when Jaime pissed someone off and she would need to step in to calm tempers and keep Jaime from getting himself maimed or killed. Sandor never did understand what Brienne saw in the idiot, but considering both Brienne and Tyrion held him in high esteem, Sandor assumed Jaime had _some_ redeeming qualities.

Soon, it was time to leave. Lem had been trying to get Sansa's attention, and Sandor was close to gutting the man where he stood. Sansa had ignored him, but Lem was persistent. _Thank fuck we're leaving them behind now._ Thoros had given Sandor the same information Beric had been given. Theoretically, they would be able to retrace the man’s steps.

Four hours later, Sandor was ready to chuck theory right out the hypothetical window. They were out of the desert and in a swamp. Jaime was complaining about blisters and bugs, Brienne was telling him to shut his trap, Arya wasn’t saying anything, but she was looking more and more murderous by the minute. Sansa...Sansa wasn’t saying anything either, but she was lagging behind a bit, even with Sandor’s help. “Alright, alright, let’s take a rest. Have some dinner as well.” Jaime cheered and Sandor smacked him in the arm. “No horsing around. The sooner we find Beric, the better.”

Sansa and Brienne set about starting a campfire and dinner. Arya disappeared into the forest, calling out behind her that she was not to be followed. Sandor sat down on a fallen log, only to have Jaime join him. Jaime took off his boots and socks. “Ugh, what is that smell?!”

Jaime looked up at him. “I’m sure your feet smell just as good. Look at this,” he said, shoving his bare foot into Sandor’s face, making him grimace. “I’ve got blisters on my blisters.” Putting his foot down, he asked, “Got any magic spell to make this better?”

They both heard Sansa sigh loudly. She left Brienne to building the fire up, got a small jar from her bag and tossed it over to Jaime. “Use this. It’ll help.”

Sandor had already told Jaime and Brienne that Sansa would be studying magic under him, at least until he could find her a proper teacher. Jaime’s eyes lit up. “Is this a magical healing salve? Will it cure my pains and sorrow?”

Sansa laughed. “I suppose it could be called magical. It will make your feet feel better, that is for certain. Rub it in now. Your feet will need to be bound in bandages, but you should wait until after you eat for that.”

“Sansa,” Brienne said, “If you’d like to rest a bit, I’ll take care of this. I know you’re quite tired.”

“No, I can--”

“Wife,” Sandor said. “Come sit with me. Please.” Brienne waved Sansa off, grinning at her knowingly.

“Yes, husband,” she said, a slight smirk on her pretty mouth. She brushed off the log, sitting down as delicate as a feather. “My cruel, cruel husband, must I sit here for long?”

“As long as it takes for you to feel better,” he said softly. “Maybe try your meditation. I have yet to see you do so. You’ve been doing what Melisandre told you, yes?”

“Yes, just not today, not yet.”

“Go on, then. I’ll be right here.”

She slid off the log to sit on the ground, folding her legs under her and arranging her skirt. Sandor watched as she closed her eyes, her magic beginning to hum as she entered her trance. It was interesting to watch. Neither Jaime nor Brienne noticed a thing. Arya didn’t notice either when she came back after hunting down two fat furry animals he couldn’t identify. They sort of looked like large rodents, but he had never seen rats that big before. Brienne showed her a better way to skin them, and then added the meat to the stew they had going.

It was oddly cozy, this little scene he was a part of. Even though Jaime kept making stupid comments. Sandor pushed him off the log when he started singing The Bear and the Maiden Fair. Fucking annoying song. “But that’s mine and Brienne’s song!”

“Jaime, for the last time, that’s not our song.”

Sandor ignored their bickering for the most part, turning his attention back to Sansa. Tendrils of magic were hovering around her, enveloping her in purity. The colors of the magic changed as she (he assumed) began concentrating on the scenes she had described before. Rich reddish-browns, deep blues, yellow-reds, light greys, vibrant greens, and finally blue-tinted whites. The tendrils of magic faded back to the pure clarity it had begun with, and then rescinded back into her.

“That went by quickly,” he said to her as her eyelids fluttered open.

“What are you talking about?” Arya asked. “You two were in a trance for nearly three hours! That is not my definition of ‘quickly’. Though I did manage to catch a few more of these coypu. They’re a little gamey, but not bad tasting, and I got some decent skins from them. Been treating them for the past two hours.”

“Did you say...we were _both_ in a trance?” he asked, not quite believing her. He looked up at the sky and saw that the sun had indeed moved a significant distance.

“Did you meditate too, Sandor?” Sansa asked. “I can’t believe it was for so long though. It usually only takes me an hour.”

“No, little bird, I didn’t...I was just watching you.” He remembered the red witch had said he had been in a trance for more than a whole day after Sansa died. Something else to ask Beric about. Brienne was scooping bowls of stew for them, handing them over with admonishments for not coming out of the trance sooner before returning to sharpening her sword.

“Well, whatever the hell happened,” Jaime said, “we should either get a move on or camp here. There’s only a few hours left before dark.”

“Less than two,” Sandor said. “We’ll stay here. Won’t be able to use the house again in this environment, but I brought tents for each of us, though you get to bunk alone, little sister.” Arya made a face at him, looking up from the frog that had landed next to her. She had been poking it, trying to get it to move, but it remained where it was. It finally responded when she offered it some meat from the stew. “We were getting nowhere in finding Beric anyway.”

“Why do we need to find him again?” Brienne asked. “I mean, I know he’s lost, and he’s your friend, but...this seems like…”

“A waste of time?” Sandor said with a chuckle. “Might be. Thing is...I’ve never trained anyone before, but I do know that all potential trainees need to be evaluated before starting their training. I was evaluated three times, once by each of my masters before they took me on. Now, I know Sansa has magic, but neither the red witch nor I know how much, and therefore cannot begin her training. She’s only used it instinctively before. Calling upon knowledge she shouldn’t have is the mystery to me, but when she saved me from Robb… It’s dangerous, for her, for anyone around her. Her magic was dormant until we...until we met. Now, it's like a snowball traveling down a mountain, gaining more and more power and speed as it grows. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it will get. If we can’t find Beric, we’ll have to go to Wizard Manderly. He’s further away, but he’s just as able to help.”

“That prick? He’d sooner gorge himself on a feast meant for the entire city. Might be doing it already.”

“Alright, Wizard Manderly might not be the most...well, _reliable_ man, but he’s the next person I would trust with this,” Sandor said. “The world of magic is tumultuous at best, and when you find people you trust, you tend to stick with them.”

“What about your other master?” Sansa asked, looking around a bit confused.

“That would be Cersei…” Sandor said.

“My sister, and the one who trapped Tyrion in a curse,” Jaime finished for him, spitting on the ground. “She’s a bitch who doesn’t like being told ‘no’. Wouldn’t trust her as far as I can throw her, which is pretty far.”

“She also has a bone to pick with at least two of you.”

“Who…” Sansa said.

“Me,” Sandor replied, but Sansa just looked more confused. “I was her student, but I ran away when I was eighteen. Found Wizard Manderly, who took me in, trained me as best he could. He’s still powerful, but he’s not a great teacher and felt someone better should be handling it. He sent me to Beric when I turned twenty.”

“She’s also pissed at me for choosing to look for Tyrion instead of staying behind with her. She’s my twin, you see, and her magic works better when I’m around. She’s still awfully powerful without me, but not as much? I never really understood it, since I’m not magically inclined myself. Neither is Tyrion, for that matter. She inherited her power from Mother, I think, since Father is as magical as a stone and less comforting. She’s going to be even angrier when she finds out Tyrion’s been freed and that my wench and I are staying with the Master.”

“You can stop calling me that,” Sandor said through clenched teeth. “I told you, you can just call me Clegane. Or ‘Demon’, when I was still cursed.”

“Sounds better now that you’re human again,” Arya remarked. She was petting the frog, who seemed to be enjoying the bowl of stew in front of it. “Imagine it, someone screaming out _‘Demon!’_ right before you bring down hell upon their heads.”

“Sandor…” Sansa whispered.

“I am not a mage hell bent on world domination, _little sister._ The only time I would do something like that is if someone I care about is in danger.” He stared into the bowl Brienne had handed him. It was still steaming, and he took a bite. He was surprised at how good it was. He had never pegged Brienne as a good cook, but considering how Jaime had nearly set one of the _stone_ caves on fire, he supposed she’d have to be in order to not starve to death. He felt a hand on his sleeve. Sansa was looking up at him with fear in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

 _“Who_ was speaking?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” He went over the conversation in his head. “Jaime, Arya, myself, you…” Something wasn’t right. “Brienne?”

“Yes?”

“Did you say anything? About Wizard Manderly or Cersei?”

Brienne looked surprised. “No, I haven’t been listening to be honest.”

“Then who…” Sandor looked down at the frog. The frog looked back up at Sandor.

“It’s about time you noticed,” the frog said.


	13. Part 2, Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Chapter 13 on the 13th. :D

“Uh…” Arya poked at the frog. “Who are you? Because you are clearly not the average frog.”

Sandor stared at the frog. “No… It couldn’t be…”

“Sandor?” Sansa’s hand hadn’t left his sleeve. His vision blurred and then sharpened to an extraordinary level. He could see the telltale scars.

“Beric?”

“You were expecting a troll, maybe? Nearest bridge is several hours away.” Even as a frog, Beric was a smug ass. “Surprised to see you here, Clegane. Who’s this bunch? Oh, thank you for the stew. Haven’t had anything heartier than spiders as of late, and they’re not as filling as you’d think,” he said to Arya. She just nodded and continued to pet his head.

“Beric, how… Right, introductions. That’s Jaime, his wife Brienne, the one petting you is my goodsister, Arya, and this,” he patted Sansa’s hand, “is Sansa. My wife.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” she said softly to the frog. “I wasn’t expecting… I thought you would be taller.”

It is very odd to see a frog laugh, Sandor discovered. “Yes, well, it was my own doing. Set off a trap by accident when I went to rescue a wayward princess. Oh, she’s fine,” he said, when he saw Sansa’s sharp intake of breath. “Turns out she had a true love that rescued her a few days after I got there. Her father didn’t want the woman as a daughter in law, so he hired me to prevent him from saving her and earning her hand in marriage. Wish he had mentioned that part.” It was also very odd to see a frog sigh mournfully. 

“Why’s that?” Arya asked.

“Well, the laws of magic dictate that true love is the greatest magic of all. If the princess hadn’t been in love with this young woman, a sailor, I believe, I could have rescued her with no problems. She did, however, and that changes the game. The magic protecting her reacts to her energy and in turn, only her true love was allowed to do any actual saving. The “good” King Targaryen will have to deal with Princess Daenerys and Sailor Asha on his own now. I’m done with that. Really glad I took half up front though.”

“Wait, if the princess was rescued, why are you still a frog?” Sandor asked. “All the enchantments should have broken.”

“I wasn’t within the radius of the curse breaking at the time,” Beric the frog said. It was hard to tell in the fading sunlight, but it looked like he was blushing. 

“Why not?”

“Well...there was a pond with some really nice lily pads, and it was just so peaceful. Being an amphibian has been great, to tell you the truth. No one bothers me about teaching them or guiding them or saving this person, breaking this curse, casting that spell. I mean, you can understand how much pressure it is, can’t you?” the frog asked him.

Sandor remembered his life before being cursed. When every cunt in the vicinity believed they were entitled to his help just because he was a Mage and they weren't. Every single day had been filled with idiots making idiotic demands in their idiotic voices. It had been terrible. He had been considering moving to the castle just for some peace and quiet when he was hit with the curse in the middle of the town square. It had scared the shit out of several people, literally, and caused several more to pick up pitchforks at him. Nothing like being chase out of town by a wall of shit-smelling, pitchfork waving idiots. “Yes, I can understand. But what about Thoros? He’s been really worried about you.”

“Thoros... Right... I do feel bad he doesn’t know. Maybe you could tell him when you return? I’m rather enjoying my new life and I don’t want to go back anytime soon. Besides, even though I’m still a frog, I gained back my ability to talk, and I think I can still use magic, to a certain degree. Haven’t tried. Hasn’t really been a need to.”

“There’s one now,” Sandor said, his voice low and somber. “I need you to evaluate Sansa. Or show me how.”

The frog waved his webbed hand at Sandor. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Oh, can’t do this the normal way. Uh... Oh! I know. Place me on top of her head. Is that alright, girl?” The frog looked expectantly at Sansa.

“Um, I suppose.” She walked over and reached for the small creature, delicately picking him up. She returned to her seat next to Sandor and carefully placed Beric the frog on the top of her head as if he were a crown. They looked ridiculous. Sandor had to smile about it.

“Just relax. This won’t hurt a bit,” the frog said, patting her forehead.

As when she meditated, her magic began to hum and the tendrils emerged once more. That was about all that was the same. They began clear, but when Beric’s magic, red tendrils emerging from his tiny frog body, touched hers, Sansa’s magic took on a silver sheen. Bubbles of concentrated power flowed up and into Beric, freezing him in place. Sandor snatched the now cold frog from where he sat. The magic rescinded and Sansa doubled over, gasping. Arya was by her side.

“What the hell happened?!” she demanded. “Breathe, Sansa, just breathe…”

Sandor looked down at the still frog in his hands. “I...I don’t know… I’ve  _ never _ seen that happen before, and I’ve seen dozens of evaluations done.”

“Is he...your friend…is he alive?” Brienne asked. 

“It doesn’t look like it.” Sandor poked at the very dead frog. “Give him a minute.”

“A minute?!” Sansa shrieked. “I just killed your friend, your  _ former teacher, _ I can’t even begin to figure out  _ how, _ and all you can say is  _ ‘give him a minute’?!” _

Sandor sighed. He wasn’t sure it would work to begin with, but he set the frog corpse next to the fire, then went back to Sansa. “It’s...it’s hard to explain, but this isn’t the first time Beric’s been killed. Probably won’t be the last either, but considering he’s in frog form, I’m not entirely certain about that part. Transmutation does sometimes affect the ‘normal’ magic one has.”

She looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was, but Beric was one of kind. They all heard a tiny groan and then a sharp intake of breath as the frog breathed in. “Oh, that was not pleasant,” he muttered, sitting up into his usual squatting position. Sansa looked even more horrified.

“It’s alright, it’s this  _ thing _ he does. Again, it’s hard to explain, but basically, he dies, but it doesn’t take.” Sandor looked over at the now alive frog. “Scared the crap out of me when I first saw it.”

The frog stared at them. “I think... I think we should try again.”

“Beric, it's just going to kill you again,” Sandor started to say.

“I have a theory. And if I die again...eh. It happens.” Sandor shook his head, but when Beric hopped over to them, he picked him up and placed him back on Sansa's head. “Alright, this time, I want you to hold Clegane’s hand.”

Sansa held Sandor's hand, trembling slightly. “I’ve got you, little bird,” he whispered to her. She smiled, but he saw the fear in her eyes.

“Just relax,” the frog said. “Even if I die again, I’ll just come back. You wouldn’t believe how many times this has happened to me.” He did that odd froggy laugh again. It was sort of like a cross between a wet, hacking cough and a standard frog croak, with a slightly higher pitch to it.

Sansa didn’t look at all relieved by that, but she tried to relax as Sandor rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’m ready, I suppose.”

“Just like you did before, then,” Beric said. The magicks of the two began to hum again. This time, Sansa’s magic didn’t react defensively, and the rest of the evaluation went peacefully. Once the magicks rescinded, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, including Beric. “What? It’s not like I  _ enjoy _ dying,” the frog said when Sandor gave him a look. “It’s more than a bit annoying that I keep getting killed.”

“How does that work anyway?” Arya asked the frog, picking him up from Sansa’s head. “The whole springing back to life?”

“I’d like to know that as well, considering Sansa was brought back recently and I participated in that.”

“She was? Interesting.” The frog climbed up Arya’s arm and settled on her shoulder. “Oh, this is much better. Well, blame Thoros for my ‘condition.’ We were students together and, well, accidents happen. I wasn’t dead, but I was close to it. Thoros panicked and cast the first spell he could find. That didn’t work, so he cast another, and another and another. I believe it was seventeen total. The thing is, a few of them were time delayed, and placing these spells one on top of another in so short a time period is never a good idea, though as I said, we were students and didn’t know better. In addition to that, magic can be shaped simply to our will. If you want something bad enough, and have the magic to make it happen, you can do it. Spells are just words we use to guide the magic, to guide our intentions for magic. But I’m getting off topic. Let’s see, it was explained to us much, much later, but if I remember correctly, the spells melded together and became something new, something strange. I healed. And then a few months later, I died. Took a flowerpot to the head, yet a few hours later, I was walking around like nothing had happened. Thoros was with me at the time. He checked my vitals, he  _ knew _ I was dead for sure. By the time I was taken to the maester’s office, I was awake. We chalked it up to him making a mistake. Then it happened again. A sword through my gut this time. A maester pronounced me dead and I was awake again the next day. Our teacher was the one who figured out what happened, though he couldn’t explain how it worked. It just did. I cannot die by unnatural means. Maybe, when I’m an old man, I will finally be able to rest eternal, but for now, I will continue as I am. If it had been discovered within a week of it happening, it could have been removed, but as it was more than a month of the original casting, it’s bonded fairly well to me.”

“So you weren’t resurrected in a fire magic ritual?” Sandor asked.

“No, but Thoros is a red priest, so fire magic was likely involved. You would have to ask him. I have a hard time remembering it all.” The frog looked at them all. “So, now what are your plans?”

“Oh, boy,” Arya said, settling down and getting more stew. “This could take awhile.”


	14. Part 2, Chapter 6

They spent a good chunk of the evening explaining everything that had happened to them, though neither Sansa nor Sandor admitted to anyone how they first met or why Sandor had called upon maidens to quest. Beric gave him a look, but didn’t ask. _‘He’ll probably ask me when we have more privacy,’_ Sandor thought. He did not look forward to that prospect, as Beric would likely berate him for being a fool in love. After that, Sandor and Beric looked through the book he had borrowed. Sandor had been trying to find the section on the supposed location of Dreamwind, the birthplace of the gods and nearly every magical creature known to man, but it had been slow going. Having Beric sped up the process and they had a destination now, the Caves of the Black and White.

When morning came, Beric decided he would accompany them. Sandor told him there was no way in hell he’d be the one to carry him, but Arya said she didn’t mind, and as they set out, Beric sat comfortably on her shoulder.

**********

The Caves of Black and White were easy enough to find. The Caves were well known for being the place to go when you needed help. The entrance, however, was shrouded in mystery. There was an entrance and a way to find it, but the book only said those worthy of entering would find it. The specifications on “worthiness” was not listed.

After an hour of walking around the base of the mountain that contained the caves, they came across a man sitting on a tree stump. Dressed in brown rags from head to toe, he was barely distinguishable as a human. He was looking off in the distance, though Sandor couldn't tell what he was trying to see.

“Good sir,” Sansa said. “Are you from this area? We're a little lost.”

“We're not--”

Sansa shushed him. “Sandor, we're lost.” Fine, they were lost. They didn't need help though.

“A man is of this land. A man knows many seek the Caves. A man cannot help,” the raggedy man said.

_Well, that was useless._

“I see. Thank you anyway. Is there anything we can do for you before we continue on?” Sansa asked.

The odd man looked at her. “You must be brave. Strong. Gentle.”

A sudden gust of wind had them all throwing their arms up over their eyes. When the wind settled, and they lowered their arms, the odd raggedy man was gone.

**********

“What do you think he meant by saying you need to be brave, gentle and strong?” Arya asked.

“No idea. I mean, it's good advice in general,” Beric was telling her, “but I suspect that’s not how he meant it. Maybe it’s a clu-- AHHHHHH!”

Sandor whipped around just in time to see Arya dive to catch Beric before his little froggy body fell into a briar bush, scratching the back of her hand up from the thorns. While he would have survived, it would have hurt like a bitch. The briar was growing quickly, surrounding them until it was a domed prison. There wasn’t much room and everyone was cramped together. “Well this is just _fantastic,”_ Arya muttered. “How are we supposed to get out? Not enough room to swing my sword. Can you magic us out?”

Sandor touched the briar, but immediately withdrew his hand when it scalded him. A thorn had scratched him as well, but it wasn’t as bad as Arya’s. He could see the blood dripping from her hand, though Beric was applying a healing spell. Sandor growled. “It’s enchanted. Any spells I throw at it will bounce back. Even simple elemental ones.”

“We could try to burn through it. Not a spell after the fire is created,” Beric suggested. Sandor tensed.

“Fine. But I--”

“Where's Brienne?” Jaime asked. They all looked around. “Where's Sansa for that matter?”

“Up here,” they heard Brienne say above them. “At least, I'm up here, the branches wrapped themselves around my limbs and are holding me down. I can't move and I don't see Sansa.”

_Do you know?_

Sandor whipped around. “Who said that?”

Arya shook her head. Beric and Jaime did the same. “Wasn't us.”

_Do you know fear?_

Sandor growled. “What's it to you?”

_Do you know HER fear?_

“Her?” Sandor looked at Arya.

“Sorry, I tend to face my fears head on,” she said. “Brienne! We're hearing a disembodied voice asking about fear. That mean anything to you?”

“Not really,” Brienne called down. “The only thing I'm even remotely fearful of is heights.”

“So that leaves--” Sandor jumped back as the briar began to smolder. “Damnit, Beric! _Tell_ me before you do something like that!”

“Uh, that wasn't... I didn't…” The frog looked panicked.

“Then who…?” Sandor turned back to the smoking branches. It had not caught flames just yet, so he held his hand up to it and gently prodded it with his magic. “Shit. It's part of the enchantment. Must have been set off when the voice stopped talking.”

“Uh, why do I smell burning wood?” Brienne asked.

_Double shit!_ Brienne was more vulnerable than the rest of them. Jaime was scrambling to get to her but the briar was tough and his hands were bleeding from the thorns.

_She fears death._

Sandor really wished he could strangle the voice. “Who the fuck are you talking about?! Everyone fears death! Except that one!” he screamed, pointing at the frog. “It’s how we stay alive! If you don’t fear dying, you’re a moron!”

The voice laughed. _Not her own death. YOUR death, Mage._

Sandor’s brow furrowed. _My death? But only…_ He couldn’t finish the thought. The smoldering briar branch exploded into flames.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!” Jaime had torn his shirt off and was trying to smother the flames, but it did no good. They spread around the base of the briar prison, though the branches did not weaken.

_Fucking enchanted death traps!_ he thought. He tried to call up the same elemental magic he had used on the Stark’s house, but when he reached out, he felt nothing. His panic began to rise, and he felt like he couldn’t breath. _Not again, not by fire, please, not by fire…_ This time, there was no little bird to be brave for. He could hear the others, but their voices had faded into a muffled hum in the back of his mind. He fell to his knees in defeat. _Not like this…_

_“-ndor! Sandor!”_

He looked up. Sansa was on the other side of the briar cage. She looked scared. _At least she’ll live._ She touched the burning briars, wincing. “Sansa, don’t! You don’t want to get burned. Trust me on this.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, Sandor. I can’t just sit here and watch you burn! Take my hand, please!” He tried to stop her from forcing her hand through the briar, but she was determined. Her sleeves were being pushed back, the thorns digging into her soft skin. “Please! Sandor, take my hand!”

He grasped her delicate hand in his, wishing he could spare her this pain and misery. He looked at her, but her eyes were shut tight. She was muttering to herself, concentrating. She grabbed the briar prison with her free hand, still chanting, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He felt a surge of power from her, gentle but firm, and then the fire began to rescind. Slowly, it died down until there was only smoke, and soon that was gone as well. Sansa kept chanting and the briar trembled, resisting her efforts. Sandor gave it that extra nudge and the branches untangled, allowing them to escape. Brienne was no worse for wear after her strange imprisonment. It seemed to have no purpose. Jaime was kissing her skin where the thorns got to her.

“But you’re fine otherwise?” he kept asking her until she smacked him.

“I’m _fine,_ you ninny. It was just a few scratches. You don’t see Clegane fretting over Sansa, do you?” she pointed out.

Sandor actually was fretting. He was just being more quiet about it than Jaime. Sansa giggled as Sandor covertly inspected her wounds. “Sandor, I told you I’m fine. See? No marks whatsoever,” she whispered. Indeed, the places he saw the thorns tear into her flesh were fully healed. _Her magic healed her without prompting. Shit. That's not good. Well, good and not good._ She leaned into his arm. “I was so scared. I thought I was about to lose you.”

“Not going to lie, Sansa. I thought the same thing. How did you…do all that?”

She looked over at Jaime and Brienne, who were arguing, then at Arya and Beric who were trying to figure out what had just happened. “I wished it,” she said.

“You...wished it?”

“Sort of. Beric said that spells are just guides for magic, remember?” Sandor nodded. “So, I thought really hard about what I wanted to do, then I chanted it over and over again, putting all my thought and energy into it.”

“And you reaching for my hand?”

“I thought it might work better if we were touching, like when Beric was evaluating me, or when we were in the transport spell.” She gave him a sheepish look. “I couldn’t think of anything else. You were all about to go up in flames. I couldn’t let that happen. I’m rather fond of all of you. Especially you,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Don’t tell Arya, but I think you’re my favorite.”

He chuckled. “Clever little bird. Your secret is safe with me.”

**********

They walked until the sun was low in the sky, making no progress on finding the entrance to the Caves. After deciding to call it quits for the day, they managed to find a relatively good spot to camp. Beric stood watch, having napped a good chunk of the day away on Arya’s shoulders. He had been testing his ability to use magic and found that he could still throw lightning bolts, though they shot out of his mouth now, instead of his hands. It was a disturbing sight, but he would be able to defend them and that would have to do.

They all fell into deep sleep. When the moon was high above them, Sandor jolted awake. He couldn’t say what had done it. The night air was mostly silent, save for the symphony of crickets and the occasional hooting of owls.

The growling caught his attention immediately. The fire was low, but there was just enough light to see a large figure towering over the small group. Beric was nowhere to be seen. “For fuck’s sake,” Sandor snarled and launched a water missle at the figure as it reached for a sleeping Jaime. At least, he tried to. It was closer to upending a cup of water than the usual concussive force he normal conjured. _“Fuck!!”_ he yelled, waking the others. They scrambled out of the way of the figure, except Jaime, who was frozen in panic. It loomed closer to them, stepping on the campfire and causing the embers to flare briefly.

“Brienne…” Sansa whispered in shock. They all stared. It was and wasn’t Brienne at the same time. Her familiar features were noticeable, her straw blonde hair, her piercing blue eyes, her incredible height, but this was more like a monster version of the androgynous woman. Her usually bright blue eyes glowed menacingly, her blonde hair had grown all over her like a pelt, and her height was now twice that of Sandor. Her hands had been reformed into claws, her usually crooked teeth were sharp and dripping with what looked like some sort of venom, her two lower incisors were bigger and elongated, jutting up and out of her mouth. Her entire body was covered in the same light blond fur as the hair on her head. The wind picked up, howling like a banshee.

She took a swipe at Arya, who rolled backward and out of harm’s way. “What the hell happened to her?!” she screamed over the wind.

Sandor had no idea, but he couldn’t answer either way. Brienne was taking a swing at Sansa, and Sandor had to tackle her to keep her in one piece. Brienne roared her fury. Jaime ran forward, his initial panic had faded and now he could take action.

“Brienne!” he shouted. She ignored him. “WENCH!”

To Sandor, it felt like the entire world froze in that moment, as Monster Brienne’s eyes filled with fury and she turned to face her husband. It was quite similar to when Jaime pissed off Human Brienne, and just as potentially lethal.

She roared as she aimed a punch at Jaime. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but Brienne seemed to grow in size. Jaime didn’t dodge. He stood there, his hands held out, and easily caught her fist like it was all a game. Sandor could see Brienne straining, pushing with all her might, while Jaime was calm and uncharacteristically collected. The wind calmed as he kissed one of her giant knuckles, and Sandor saw her entire body tremble. “My beautiful wench,” Jaime said softly. "Why are you so angry? You’re going to get a headache again. Or do you already have one? You do tend to lash out when you’re in pain. Do you want me to rub your temples already? Lean down for your short husband, and I’ll kiss the pain away.”

Brienne whimpered and knelt down. Her voice was much lower, and much more coarse than usual when she said, “Jai...meeee…” She lay down on the ground, and Jaime cradled her head.

“There, there, my cute not-so-little wife. I’m right here,” he said, petting her head. She growled in contentment. The ground began to shake and suddenly, they were all sitting up from their sleeping positions.

Beric looked over at them from his perch on a large rock. “Bad dream?” he asked.

“Something like that,” Sandor told him.

**********

“For the last time, it was the thorns from the briar! You’re not going insane!” Sandor screamed at Jaime. He kept insisting he needed to be tied up for everyone safety. “The briar thorns were enchanted. Everyone, except Beric, got scratched by them. When we went to sleep, the potion used to enchant the thorns activated, and we were all put into the same dream, where Brienne’s insecurities gained a physical aspect and all her emotions were thrown out of whack, and she attacked everyone.”

“Sooooooooooooooooooo… It wasn’t just me?”

Sandor wanted to strangle him. Brienne placed a hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “Jaime, cut it out before he murders you for real.”

“We should get some sleep,” Arya said. “We still need to figure out how to find the Caves, and if I’m reading the sky right, we’re in for some nasty weather tomorrow.”

“Alright, but anyone wakes me before sun comes up, and you will be missing limbs. _Jaime.”_ Sandor glared at the blond man who ignored him while chuckling to himself.

**********

There was a large, decrepit tower in front of them. They had been walking for hours and Sandor’s stomach was growling almost as much as he was. Arya had been right, though the heavy rainstorm had lasted a mere four hours. The only reason he hadn’t gone over the edge was Sansa. He just had to glance at her and he would remember why he was trudging through this bloody hot, swampy forest of a hellhole that circled the mountain. Anything for her. He looked up at the tower, then back down to Arya who had just circled the entire thing.

“No doors. One window, and you’re looking at it,” she said, pointing up at the top of the tower. “I can get in, but if there’s anything magical up there, I’m defenseless. So,” she turned to Sandor, “You and me and Jaime, a triple tag team, whadda ya say? We can bond! Or something like that.”

“Fuck no.”

“Sandor…” Beric started.

“No, and fuck no. We need at least three of us to go up there, one mage, one sword, and one quick enough to run back in case something happens. I’m not leaving Sansa here with Tweedledum, even if Brienne stays with her. She can’t control her magic if something else happens. Another briar prison, a curse, that weird raggedy man…”

“Sandor,” Sansa whispered, tugging on his arm. He allowed her to lead him away from the others, though they stayed in sight. “You have to go.” He started to protest, but she cut him off. “Don’t argue. This is the best lead we’ve had since we got to the mountain, the _only_ lead. You are so strong, and your magic is powerful. You are the obvious choice to investigate. Arya is quick, and smart. Jaime is… Um…”

“Good for cannon fodder. Fine, I’ll go with Arya. Jaime, too. He’s actually a decent warrior, when he’s not got his head up his ass. But know that the only reason I’m leaving your side--”

“Is so that you can return to it and we can be on our way.” She smiled and kissed him. “I don’t like the idea of separating any more than you do. But I will be safe with Brienne and Beric. And I’ll meditate while we wait. Beric told me yesterday that I should start practicing magic after my meditation.”

“Beric’s a good teacher. Maybe we could invite him to come back to the castle with us after all this is over…” Sandor mumbled. He hated to hand over the reins to someone else, but he had never taught anyone before and he wanted her to learn from the best. Beric was it. “I’ll talk to him about a first lesson before we head up the tower.”

**********

Sandor looked down at the two women and frog below them. They seemed so small now that he was so high up. He waved at Sansa, before ducking into the window, being careful to not dislodge the rope Arya had secured to the window. Despite the outward appearance of the tower, the inside was lavish, fit for a king even. There was no one in the room, but they did find a stairwell that led to an equally luxurious second floor. The stairs kept going down, down, down, with dozens of self-lighting candles illuminating their path. Each room had a different theme. The first was a princess room. The second was a hunting lodge. The third was a painter’s studio. The fourth was a dungeon, though all the “torture” devices were actually sexually inclined. The fifth floor was locked, but Arya picked it fairly easily.

The door was old and not well maintained, not like the rest of the tower. There was no light, except from the light Sandor created in his hands. The room was incredibly bare, with a dirt flooring and the tower stones as the walls. “This is nothing like the previous floors,” Arya said. “Even the very air is different.”

“It’s because it’s mine, not hers,” a voice said. They dropped into attack formation, looking in the direction of the voice. Sandor brightened and let go of his light globe, letting it illuminate the speaker. A young man sat on a sad straw pallet, his face scruffy and a very serious look on his face. _Much too young to have that look. He’s seen some shit in his short life._ Sandor noticed the chain shackled to the man’s ankle. _That explains a lot._

“Who are you?” Jaime asked.

“The mistress does not refer to me as a person.”

“What did your mother call you?” Arya asked.

The man smiled, but it was cynical. “My mother is dead.”

Arya knelt on the ground. “But she must have called you _something._ Or do you not know it?”

He sighed as she made herself comfortable. “She called me Podrick. Pod, for short.”

“Well, Pod, how did you come to be locked in the bottom floor of a tower with no doors and only one window? And who is this ‘mistress’ you speak of?” She scooted a bit closer to him. “Is she your lover?”

Pod snorted, a soft little chuff of a sound. “The only way I’d be with her is if she forced me, which she hasn’t done yet, thankfully. I don’t know her name, her true name. I just call her The Red Woman. Everything red, even her hair, which is frightfully long. Down past her ankles and trails on the floor. She locked me in here years ago, when I was just a child. Bought me off my father for a mere ten coppers. Thought I would at least be worth a few silvers.”

“Why? Why did she lock you away? You were a child… Did you do something bad? Kill a man?” She scooted a little closer. Sandor gauged the distance. She was within Pod’s range of attack, if he was so inclined.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I’ve been waiting for some idiot adventurers to come ‘rescue’ me, only to kill them and steal anything they have worth stealing.”

“No,” Arya said. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t? Why’s that?”

“You don’t have the look of a killer.”

Pod stared at her. Suddenly, he was off the pallet and had knocked Arya on her back. His fist was poised above her, ready to strike. “Don’t I?” he snarled. Jaime moved to lunge and Sandor raised his hand to blast the man off of his goodsister, but Arya placed her hand on his chest.

“You're not a killer. You may have killed before, but you… You won't kill me.” She sounded so sure, so confident, that both Jaime and Sandor lowered their hands. Pod relaxed and moved off of her, even helped her sit upright, but he was still wary of them. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want your freedom? We can take you from here, keep you safe.”

Pod scoffed. “The Red Woman doesn't like to lose her property, even a lowly battery like me.”

“Battery?” Sandor asked.

“Yeah, that's what she calls me. The battery. She uses my life force to maintain the magic that sustains this place. As long as I'm here in the tower, the spell locks onto me and uses me as a power source.”

“Will anything happen to you if you leave?” Arya asked.

“And what happens to the tower?”

Arya picked up a rock and beaned Jaime in the head with it. “Ignore him,” Arya told Pod as Jaime fell like a bunch of broccoli. She scooted a little closer. “What happens to you?”

Podrick shrugged. “Don't know. Haven't been outside since she brought me here.”

“I would expect that the spell would just stop working,” Sandor said. “You said it just feeds off of you? She didn't attach it to you personally?”

“Yeah, no. Not to me specifically. It’s probably feeding off of you three as well, until you leave, at least.”

“Do you want to leave?” Arya asked again.

Pod looked at her. “Where would I go? My mother is dead, my father's the one that sold me into this, my uncle... I don't even know where he is or if he's alive. I have nowhere to _go.”_

“That's not true. You could go anywhere you like. You could travel with us. You could seek shelter with a group known a s the Brotherhood.” Arya was now close enough that her knees were practically touching his. She placed her hand on his arm. “I'm going to unlock this shackle. If you want to come with us, we'll be more than happy to have you. Maybe I can even help you find your uncle. If you want to stay here, then stay here. I'll leave my climbing rope next to the window, in case you change your mind in the future.”

She pulled a small leather roll from her side pocket and unfurled it onto the floor. She picked up two thin metal rods and set to work on Podrick’s confinement. “One might think you're a thief with a pack like that,” Pod said.

Sandor could hear the smile in her voice. “One might. But I'm not. Lock picking is a surprisingly useful skill for non-thieves. There. You're free to roam around as you wish,” she said. The metal clanked to the ground, startling Jaime awake.

“I'm awake, don't pour honey on my toes,” he muttered. Sandor didn't want to know.

“Thank you,” Pod mumbled. “You're very kind.”

“I'm really not,” she said, standing up. She offered him her hand. “I just don't like to see people trapped by others.”

He took her hand and stood up. “You're smaller than I thought you were.”

She punched him in the arm. “You're dumber than I thought you were. And I thought you were plenty stupid.” When she turned, Sandor saw her scowl. “Let's just leave him already. Nothing more to see here.”

They walked up the steps, back to the window on the top floor. The young man followed them, grabbing items along the way to take with him. “Pod, do you know anything about the entrance to the Caves of Black and White?” Sandor asked.

Pod shook his head. “Never heard of them.” He looked over at Arya. “Oh, gods, you're a girl?!”

If looks could kill, young Podrick Payne would have been left a scorch mark in the floor.

**********

Arya sulked as they walked. It got so bad that Sansa took her aside for a chat, forcing the rest of them to take a break. Jaime spoke with Podrick and Beric, and Pod only looked mildly alarmed by the talking amphibian.

When they came back, Arya looked like she felt better and Sansa went straight to Podrick. He flinched before anyone saw her punch him in the upper arm. _Curious._ He had noticed that Pod had gotten jumpy around Arya, and had practically jumped out of his skin when he met Brienne. He was fine when he thought Arya was a male, but once he realized she was female, he suddenly couldn't string more than two words together. _He's afraid of women. Well, suppose that makes sense, what with his imprisonment by the Red Woman._

Sansa hissed some words at him, Sandor couldn't hear what, then stopped and studied him. She spoke a bit more, calmly, waiting for him to nod before returning to Sandor.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

She nodded, “I think so. Or it will be.”

“A woman and a man are kind hearted as well as brave.” They both jumped back. The raggedy man turned to Brienne and Jaime. “A woman and a man are strong in their wills as well as their hearts. You trusted each other when it mattered most.” He turned to Arya who was sitting with Beric on her head. Pod was near her, trying to not be scared of her. “A girl and a boy are tough, forced to grow up, yet opened their hearts to be gentle. Well done to all. You will follow me now.”

“Follow you where?” Sansa asked.

“To the Caves of Black and White, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, with this chapter, I've caught up on all my finished chapters. :(  
> I'll try to finish chapter 15 by Thursday, but no guarantees on that.


	15. Part 2, Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobs from happiness* I finished the remaining chapters!

“A group has passed the three tests of bravery, strength and gentleness. Many seek the Caves for assistance, but many seek it for malicious means. The Guardians devised several tests to separate the true of heart from the wicked,” the raggedy man said.

“Who are ‘the Guardians’?” asked Arya. “There’s a group of you?”

“The Guardians are no one and everyone. The Guardians come together as a collective whole to protect the Caves and to help those that need it.”

“How many ‘tests’ have you rigged up? Seems like a lot of effort.”

“The Guardians are no one and everyone. With a lot of time on our hands. There are many variations to accommodate the people being tested. Here.” The raggedy man stopped in front of a large boulder. “Walk in here.”

“You want us to walk into a rock?” Jaime asked with skepticism. “Sorry, not all of us are magically inclined. Or is this another test?”

Arya walked right up to the boulder and then through it without hesitation. She stuck her head back through, like a mushroom growing out of nowhere. “Come on, you pansies. It's just an illusion,” she said and disappeared back into the stone.

**********

The raggedy man advised them to camp near the Caves’ entrance. “The journey a group will take is long and arduous, filled with danger. Rest here while you can, and good luck.” With that, the man disappeared in between the trees.

“Well, he was creepy,” Jaime said. They all looked at him. “Well, he was! Don't tell me you didn't wonder if he was leading us to our deaths, could _still_ be leading us to our death, to possibly feast on our flesh to gain our power, our life force.”

“It is a possibility,” Beric conceded, “but highly unlikely. The book spoke of guardians to the Caves. Mysterious people who don't speak plainly. That man fits the description.” He scratched his head as best he could with his small webbed frog hand. “I’m more concerned about why he’s advising us to rest in the middle of the day.”

“Why’s that?” Arya asked. She had been helping Sansa put out the bedrolls. Sandor noticed that the one for Pod was thrown haphazardly on the ground, farther away from the others. _Guess she’s still mad he thought she was a boy._

“He did say that the journey was long and full of danger,” Brienne pointed out.

Beric croaked. “Oh, pardon. Happens sometimes. Yes, he did say that. So little is known about the Caves. I fear that we won't be able to rest, depending on how the path lays out. According to the book, the path changes as suits the need of the one or ones looking for help. Or in our case, looking for Dreamwind.”

“You know,” Brienne said, “It's curious that this villain was able to get to this place when we're having to do so much. I would think that the tests would prevent him from getting to it.”

“Only if he had evil in his heart, the intent to hurt. If he believed himself to be in the right, then yes, he would be able to get through the caves. There is also the possibility that he gained access a long time ago, and his heart changed after. Once you reach Dreamwind, you are able to come and go as you please. At least, that is my understanding.” Beric scratched his froggy head again, then hopped onto Sansa’s hand, who then placed him on her head. Sandor had found them like this earlier when he had emerged from the tower. Apparently, as long as he wasn’t being intrusive, Sansa’s magic didn’t try to harm him, and he was able to monitor her.  “As for what we might encounter, that is a mystery.”

“The Caves were once home to the dragons of old. The dragons kept their hordes here. Many come to steal. Many are trapped. Free one, free all, free none. It does not matter, for everyone must die eventually.”

They all turned to look at Sansa, who was just as bewildered as the rest of them. Beric was looking down at her intently. “Does that happen often?”

“Knowing things she couldn’t possibly know? This is the second time, no, third time.” She looked confused. “The first time was when we first met. You knew the villagers were coming, but your human ears couldn’t have picked up the sounds yet.”

“Oh…”

“Interesting…” Beric said, crawling over Sansa’s head to look into her eyes and nearly falling off. “Did you feel anything while you said it?”

“Not really. The information was just there, inside my head. Then I felt the need to _say_ it. I don’t even know if it’s helpful information.” Sandor sat next to her and took her hand.

“Do you know what it is?” Sandor asked.

“It’s your magic, bubbling up and trying to escape. We’ll need to step up your training, release the energy. The information bit, well, that's unusual, but not unheard of. You were probably wondering about something when it happened and your magic was just answering you. Am I correct?”

It was so simple, Sandor wanted to kick himself for not thinking of it. He had never bothered to look at it from the big picture, only long enough to worry about why it was happening. In the woods, she had begging him to not stop. When he did, of course she would wonder why. When her brother was wielding a sword few had seen before, of _course_ she would wonder what it was. People often didn't realize that they asked themselves little questions all day long in their heads. Sansa was just lucky that her magic could provide her with information.

“I… I had been wondering why the caves were so large… But it doesn't always work like that,” she whispered.

“Of course not, my dear,” Beric said. “It's only when your magic is bubbling over, and you give it an excuse to drain off. Now, why don't we meditate a bit and then I want you to try to create a ball of water. One the size of a marble. Alright?” Sansa nodded. “Good girl. Clegane, will you be going to sleep?”

“I'd like to watch the lesson, if that's alright. Not sleepy yet.”

“Alright, let's get started.”

**********

Sansa didn't quite manage a marble size, it was more like a rice grain, but she did collect and hold the water in place for five minutes, which was excellent for a beginner. She was exhausted by the end of it, and fell asleep immediately on Sandor. He enjoyed holding her, until he too slipped into unconsciousness.

He dreamt of fucking her, that they were back home and had the mountain castle to themselves. Her cries of his name sweeter than the very ambrosia of the gods. When she looked into his eyes, he could see his own reflection, his face whole and unburnt. He hadn't thought of it before, but seeing it in his dream made him want it, to be unscathed and not a horrid monster to look upon. _She deserves better._

When they woke, Brienne was lecturing Jaime on the dangers of wandering off by himself and Pod was attempting to talk to Arya, but he was looking more at Beric, who was on Arya's shoulder. “I wish we could be back home right now,” Sansa whispered to him. “I’m beginning to forget what it’s like to be alone with you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” He didn’t believe her, of course.

“No, not really. But I _do_ miss it. I miss having you all to myself, of being able to do what we want, when we want, even if it was only for a short while. I know _why_ we’re here, why we’re doing this, but…”

“I know, little bird,” he said, kissing her soundly. “I feel the same. Sooner we take out this asshole, the sooner we can get back. Get it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” He smiled at her. “We should probably get going.”

She sighed melodramatically, “If you _insist.”_

**********

They ventured into the cave tunnel. There were a few capillary tunnels, but they ended in single cave rooms, not leading anywhere. After the fifth one, they decided to stick to the main tunnel. Sandor and Beric were teaching Sansa the principles behind creating a light globe, when Jaime piped up, “Are we there yet?”

“No. We’ll get there when we get there,” Sandor growled.

Ten minutes later. “Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“When will we get there?”

“Don’t know. This place didn’t exactly come with directions,” Sandor said, trying to not murder Jaime.

“I’m hungry,” Jaime pouted. Brienne rolled her eyes.

“You ate breakfast like the rest of us,” Arya said.

“Uh...about that…”

Brienne sighed. “Jaime, _please_ tell me you _did not_ give your breakfast away again.”

“I didn’t! Well, I didn’t mean to. I was sitting outside the entrance, minding my own business--”

“Highly unlikely,” interjected Brienne.

“When this cute little bear cub came up to me. She was just so tiny! And such big eyes. So I gave her my breakfast.”

“So you _did_ give your breakfast away.” Sandor knew it. Jaime was an idiot, after all.

“No! It was forcibly taken from me, by cuteness. How could I keep eating when something that adorable walks up to me and starts snuffling at my plate?”

“Quite easily!” Brienne exclaimed. They bickered about it for the next half hour. Though the bear cub had only been with Jaime for a few moments, he had apparently named her Lyanna and promised her that he would come back for her, and take her home with him. He also stated that her family was gone, and she was the head of her family, a tiny matriarch that needed gentle raising.

“Who better to raise a strong bear child then us, wench?”

No one was surprised when Brienne socked him in the jaw.

“Ow...I think you loosened a tooth.” Jaime rubbed his perfect jawline. Sandor envied the man for that. His own jawline was strong and Sansa loved to nuzzle him there, on both sides of his face, but he couldn’t help wanting to have two _whole_ halves of his face. _Sansa loves you, whole or not. That should be enough._ Maybe in time, it would be. He had cared little for his own appearance for years, but now that he had Sansa, he deeply regretted not being a prince from a song. _She deserved better_ than him, but he wasn't about to let her go for anyone else to have.

“You will always find me in the past. I can be created in the present, but the future will never taint me. What am I?” Arya asked. They all stared at her. “What? It’s clear that he’s _bored._ We all are. We’ve just been walking and walking and walking. How long? No idea. None of us do. How long will we continue walking? Again, no idea. So, have a riddle. Maybe it’ll make this less dull. Weren’t we promised danger? Something exciting? Seriously, anything to break up this monotony.”

“She does have a point,” Sansa said. “I’ve never been very good at riddles though…”

“History!” Jaime proclaimed. “The answer is ‘history’.”

Arya frowned at him. “That's right…” Jaime let out a whoop and danced around the others.

“Let's keep going…” Brienne said, watching Jaime with suspicion. They walked along for a little while before Brienne said, “What has four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?”

Sandor knew that one. It was a customary opening question for applicants to the Sphinx Games.

“That...that would be...a baby,” Jaime said, though it was more of a question. “Hands and knees, on all fours. Chop its legs off, only hands to crawl on. Give it a little crutch, three…” he trailed off as the others looked at him in horror. “Uh, is that not right?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Sandor demanded, pushing Jaime to the ground. “No, that's not right! The answer is man, crawls on all fours at the dawn of his life, walks on two as an adult, walks with the use of a cane in the twilight of life!”

“Well,” Pod said nervously, _“technically_ speaking, the answer was correct, just _really_ unorthodox.”

Sandor _hrmphed_ and kicked Jaime in the leg for good measure. He glanced at Pod, his short locks of hair very becoming on his young face. Sandor wished he didn't have to have long hair to cover his scars. It was bothersome and too warm in any season except winter. If he could only be whole again… _She deserves better_ than a husband who can't even walk around without a way to cover up his grotesque face.

He grabbed Sansa's hand and walked away. He heard the others follow, and even Brienne let Jaime know she was disgusted by his answer, though it was much more diplomatic than Sandor.

They walked in near silence, only the murmured conversation between Brienne, Beric, Arya and Sansa filling the quiet tunnel. Even they settled down after a while.

“Oh!” Sansa said, startling all of them. “I remember one Melisandre once told me. Two fathers and their two sons go fishing together. They each catch one fish to take home with them. They do not lose any fish, and yet when they arrive at home they only have three fish. How can this be?”

“Grandfather, father, son, three generations and two sets of father and sons,” Jaime said quietly.

Sansa beamed at him. “That's correct!”

“Everyone has it. Those who have it least don’t know that they have it. Those who have it most wish they had less of it, But not too little or none at all.” Beric was sitting backwards on top of Arya's head, watching Jaime carefully.

“Oh, that's easy! Age. The young don't know how good they have it, the elderly wish they had less, but not to be unborn or too young!” Jaime looked so proud of himself, he didn't have any idea what was happening as Beric jumped onto the front of his tunic and stole something out of his pocket. The small frog jumped back to Arya's waiting hands.

“I knew it!” Brienne said, as Arya took a small object from Beric. She held up a tiny mirror disc, encased in a black metal, and a small man trapped inside.

“You're such a cheater, Jaime. This is some sort of magical mirror, isn't it?!” Arya demanded.

“Oi! I'm no magic mirror! I'm cursed. _There's a difference,”_ the tiny mirror man said.

“What's the difference then?” Arya asked.

The tiny mirror man sighed. “Magic mirrors are automatons. Being cursed into a mirror is a punishment.”

“What did you do to get yourself cursed?”

The tiny mirror man looked murderous and Sandor didn't expect him to answer, but a pained expression wavered over his face and he said, “I killed my stepmother and her son, my half brother. But she turned me into a slave! My own father treated me like chattel, all three of them ordering me about. Ramsay, do this. Ramsay, do that. Ramsay, kill him. Ramsay, flay her. It was never enough for any of them! Wouldn't leave me alone to play with my Reek in piece. My only friend, really, and now he's gone, too. After he trapped me in here, Father killed him while I could only watch. I just wanted to go to the big gala the queen was having. I was good that whole month. I killed and flayed every single person they told me to, without question, without complaint. But then Domeric, the conniving little shit, told Father I was skimping on the torture. I am the best at what I do, I was taught well, and _damn_ him, he got me left behind on purpose just so he could dance with the princess. As if I _cared_ about some snotty, inbred brat of a princess. I just wanted to eat at the feast and drink the queen’s wine. Live the good life for a bit. Fuckin’ Domeric… But I showed him. Him and his stupid mother. Father was upset. Went and paid the sorceress to curse me into something useful.”

“How is a man trapped in a mirror useful?” Sansa asked.

The tiny mirror man, Ramsay, sneered at her. “I am all knowing! Ask a question and I have the answer. Ask a dumb question and I will cut you to ribbons.”

Beric smacked the mirror, startling Ramsay, who physically reacted as if he had been hit. Knowing his former teacher, the tiny man probably _had_ been hit. “Tom Thumb, behave or I will break you. Then you'll have to live as a fractured soul, being in as many places as there are pieces of you. It's not pleasant.”

“Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, bitch! I am Ramsay of the infamous Bolton clan! I will climb out of this mirror just to fuck your shit up.”

Beric smacked him again.

“Ow! How are you able to do that?!”

Beric shrugged, but Sandor saw that glint in his eye. _Magical discipline and good old fashioned psychological warfare. Classic Beric._ Ramsay was doomed.

**********

Ramsay was strapped to Beric’s back, and anyone who had a question for the tiny man would simply walk alongside Beric and Arya. It was mostly Jaime asking dumb questions, but over the hours, they discovered that there were conditions to Ramsay's curse, such as the fact that he could not lie. He did his damndest to not say the truth, however, skirting about it like a muddy child that was avoiding a bath. Like for the child in the analogy, it didn't usually work. He was also compelled to answer questions, getting a sharp pain in his head if he refused.

“How much longer do we have to walk?” Pod asked.

Ramsay got a faraway look, then said, “You're almost at the top of the mountain. Nice progress, by the way. Only took you nineteen hours. Usually takes thirty-six. Seems like the path likes you, and kept you from the monsters within its depths.”

“What are you talking about? We've been walking a straight, level path this entire time!” Jaime exclaimed. He pointed behind them, “You can't even tell if we've moved since leaving the entrance in our dust. It looks the same all over!”

Ramsay shrugged, clearly bored. “I'm just telling you what I know. You're in a labyrinth, a sentient one, and it seems to like part of your group. The redhead and the ugly one, looks like. Ow! Cut that out!” Beric had smack Ramsay before Sandor had a chance to. “From what I'm understanding, the magical energy from them is resonating with the labyrinth, like a lullaby, and in return, the labyrinth is making your journey easier. Oh, you could have had an encounter with a three headed lady with a dragon tail! And a snake man that likes to get freaky.”

“Sounds like Oberyn,” Sandor snorted.

“Hmmm, not Oberyn, Olyvar,” Ramsay said. “Was a human, cursed to be a snake for betraying someone.”

“What is _with_ all these curses?” they heard Arya mutter.

“Curses are highly abused, to be honest,” Beric said. “But this is actually an average amount you've come across.”

Brienne yelped, “I think I see the exit!” They all hurried along a bit faster, exhausted and just wanting to stop and rest, but so close, they could actually see the end. The tunnel ended, leaving them on a wide ridge. Everyone, except Ramsay, marveled at the view.

“We're so high up,” Sansa whispered. “I think… Ramsay, is the Dark Forest visible from this vantage point?”

“Ugh, so unoriginal. Who names a forest _The Dark Forest?_ They're all dark! It's a property of being a forest!! It's at the edge of the horizon. There should be slight rise, which is the Castle of the Mountain Dwarf Kingdom, long since abandoned. Talk about curses, they got cursed into another dimension for being too greedy, one filled with orcs, giant eagles, elves that are more beautiful than any human alive. Oooooohhh, and a mad ruler that doubles as a homing beacon. Neat.”

Sandor looked at the tiny dot on the horizon. “It's so far…” he heard next to him.

“We'll be back home soon, Sansa,” Sandor said, squeezing her hand.

“So now what do we do?” Brienne asked. “Is it even safe to rest up here?”

“The labyrinth has granted you a respite, purposely leading you here so that you may rest. Bunch of wimps, the lot of ya… Ow! Anyway, once you've rested, the path will become visible. Stupid frog… Ow!!”

Sandor checked the area and discreetly cast protection wards, explaining them to Sansa as he did so. After a quick meal of dried meats and fruits, they all got their sleeping packs ready and soon fell fast asleep.

**********

In his dreams, Sansa and he were alone on the mountain ridge, naked and panting. He had her on all fours, then on her back, then on top and riding him. Her climaxes shook the entire world, and her moans echoed over the land as he thrust into her. It was almost like they were the only two beings in the entire world, and their coupling was the beginning of life on earth.

**********

All too soon, they were on the road again. He wished he could have stayed in the dream. In the dream, Sansa was there, naked and willing, and he...he was whole, perfection to match Sansa. _She deserves better than you, dog._

“Sandor, are you alright?” Sansa asked him. “You look a bit pale.”

He leaned into her hand as she checked his forehead. “Sleep has been...not restful.”

“Should we rest a bit longer?” Beric asked. He was rubbing his webbed hand into Ramsay’s face, much to the cursed man’s dismay. It was so strange to see the mirror man reacting like he was actually being touched, when there was still an enchanted piece of glass between them. _The magic of Beric, I suppose._

“No. We should keep going. Especially if the labyrinth is making this easy on us.”

Sansa held his hand and they continued on. He listened to Beric and Ramsay arguing, to Brienne lecture Jaime on why they couldn’t adopt a bear cub as their child, no matter how cute she might have been, to Pod who was stuttering a conversation with Arya.

_Beric. Even cursed he still has a powerful presence about him. Stupid ginger bastard… Stupid handsome bastard… Sansa and him would make beautiful ginger/auburn haired babies… she deserves better… better than you, Dog._

Sansa squeezed his hand. “Sandor, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.”

**********

“Hmm...strange…”

“What is?” Beric asked Ramsay.

“We’re going in circles. The labyrinth is trying to direct us to the exit, but something else is interfering…” The tiny man’s face scrunched up. “I… I can’t see what it is… Bitch! Reveal your secrets to me!”

“You can’t… but I thought you were able to know anything?” Sansa asked.

“So did I!!” Ramsay screamed, then muttered, “Bitch…” Beric smacked him. “OW!”

“Ramsay’s power comes from a curse, and powerful though it is, it cannot exceed the limit of its creator. Whatever it is, it’s more powerful than the sorceress that cursed him, and more powerful than the labyrinth.” Beric looked thoughtful. “Perhaps we should ask the labyrinth to not redirect us? It seems to be doing no good.”

“So we’d have to face whatever it is that’s more powerful?” Arya asked. “Can we even handle it? Only you and Beric can reliably use magic. The rest of us have to depend on our physical skills, and Sansa can’t defend herself properly at all. No offense, but you can’t. Ramsay, at least, is technically unbreakable.”

“Is there any other way around this...this...powerful thing?” Sansa asked.

“Does not look like it,” Ramsay said.

“Then I would suggest we face it. We can either do that or be stuck down here. I vote for going towards it. Anyone disagree?” No one spoke up. “Then… Labyrinth? Will you please direct us to the source of the, um… the disruption?” The tunnel walls hummed and shuddered, rippling as it changed, the tunnel warping and then the wall closed in front and opened again next to them.

“She says ‘as you wish, my lady,’” Ramsay said.

**********

The tunnel to the “interference” was not long. It opened to a large cavern, mostly empty, except for the small elevated pool of dark water in the middle of the space. It was impossible to tell if it went down a thousand feet or only one. The surface rippled with vibrations, though Sandor couldn’t see the source. It was not a good sign.

“Is this the disruption then?” Jaime asked. “Doesn’t seem like much.”

“You of all people know to not judge something based on looks,” Brienne said, eyeing him with a shrewd smile. Jaime shrugged and grinned back at her.

“So...not a monster then?” Arya asked.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Beric replied. “Something off about that thing though…”

“Oh, it’s awful…” Sansa said, shrinking away from it and covering her nose. “Like rotting death…”

Sandor looked at it again. It seemed odd, at most, but death? _Her power allows her to see more. Such a delicate creature she is, so young and inexperienced. She should not be with the Demon. She should be a queen, with a shimmering king, revered by her people. With her power and beauty, she could capture any ruler’s heart. She deserves better than a dog. Even one as powerful as you._ Sandor blinked, his jaw clenching. Anger surged forward. _No! She is mine! I’d rather die in flames than part from her._

_She deserves better._

_She is mine._

_She DESERVES better._

_She is MINE._

_SHE DESERVES BETTER._

_SHE IS MINE!!!_

“Sandor!” Her voice sliced through his thoughts, the sound spinning in the air. He turned to her, water sloshing around him. He was in the pool.

_How did I get here?_

She was on the edge, holding on for dear life as she reached for him, a pleading look in her eyes. “Sandor, take my hand. Please, love, take my hand. They can’t hurt us if you just take my hand…”

He didn’t understand, but he reached for her. Tendrils of water whipped up, grabbing onto his arm, onto his entire body, pulling him down. He heard her scream his name as the water enveloped him and darkness prevailed.

**********

It was dark. Cold. He was fairly certain he’d be able to see his breath if he could see at all.

_She deserves better._

_She is mine...and I am hers. No one could love her as I do._

_You don’t know that._

_You’re wrong. I do know that. Just as I know she will one day surpass me in skill._

_The lovely one will never surpass you in skill, dearheart. She will join you, as an equal, nothing more, nothing less._

_Let her go, she will leave you, she deserves better and she knows it._

Three voices were in his head. His own and two others he didn’t recognize. The first voice, the Dissenter, had been with him for a while, he just hadn’t realized it until that moment. The second voice, softer, the Supporter, was new.

_Let me go._

_Let HER go. She deserves BETTER._

_She deserves happiness. You make her happy._

There was something familiar about the Supporter, something echoing in the distant parts of his brain.

 

_Yes, dearheart._

_What are you doing here?_

_Your lovely one called for me._ He could hear the smile in her voice. _Now, reach out--_

_NO! SEPARATE FROM HER! I WILL HAVE HER!!_

_Desist, foul one! How dare you play on my son’s insecurities! Sandor, reach for her, reach for your lovely one. She is crying and needs you!_

Sandor pushed away from the Dissenter’s shrieks, blocked by the Supporter, his mother, and reached out.

**********

Hands grabbed him, pulling him from the water. His body was so heavy, he couldn’t move. More hands, helping to drag him out to safety. His head was turned to the side, allowing him to cough up the water he had breathed in. “Sandor…” he heard Sansa whisper. “Breathe, please breathe…”

“Go on, Sansa,” Beric said. “You can do it.”

“But what if I…”

“Kill him? He’s already halfway there,” Ramsay sneered. A smack rang out. “OW!”

He felt power concentrating next to him, hesitant only at first, and a gentle hand on his shoulder. _Little bird…_ The water in his lungs began to move, slowly, then building up speed, exiting up through his throat and mouth to be expelled onto the ground. It left a void, needing something to take its place, and his eyes opened wide as he inhaled sharply. Arms were around him, hugging him.

“Thank the gods,” he heard her whisper. “I thought I lost you…”

“No, little bird,” he whispered back, his voice even rougher than usual. “You’re not rid of me yet.”

She laughed and kissed him.


	16. Part 2, Chapter 8

They were sitting in the cavern while Sandor rested. Beric and Ramsay were at the pool, studying it. He had been filled in on what had happened. When they entered the cavern, he had apparently gone into a trance of some sort and walked into the pool. Sansa had broken the trance, which he remembered, but it was too late and he had been pulled down through a portal. Sansa had jumped in after, but the pool was empty of him, the portal closed. Beric told him that Sansa’s power had gone ballistic in her fright, but was lashing out only at the pool, as if she was trying to dig for him. “I prayed to the Mother,” she told him. “Screamed for mercy, screamed for her to bring you back to me. And you came back.”

Beric had pushed Sansa to use her training to pull the water from his lungs, for which he was most grateful. “You saved my life, little bird,” he said, leaning on her as they watched the others. “You and my mother.”

“Your mother?” Sansa asked him. 

“Yes. Wherever it was that I was taken, there were two other people there. My mother was one of them.”

“But...didn’t you tell me she passed away?”

He nodded. “I was as surprised as you. She said you called her. I suppose when you called for the Mother, mine heard you as well. She helped me escape. Kept the other one at bay.”

“The other one? Who was it?”

“I have no idea. Someone powerful, but they were limited in power too...maybe because of distance?”

“Is it possible it was the man we’re trying to find?” Sansa shuddered.

“It is possible, but there’s no way to tell one way or the other.”

“What can you tell?” Beric asked, hopping over to sit in front of them. “Anything you can remember, anything at all?”

Sansa stroked his hair as he thought. “There’s not much...my mother said he was playing on my insecurities… I think… No, I  _ know _ that whoever it was, they’ve been inside my head for a while, as soon as we entered this place. Their words mixing with my own thoughts, echoing and building on them… I couldn’t tell where my voice ended and theirs began. Not until the end. I managed to get away because of her.”

“How is it possible? I mean…” Sansa started. 

Sandor chuckled. “My mother was a powerful sorceress when she lived. She died of extremely old age though she didn't look a day over forty. She knew she would die within five years of my birth, and truthfully it was the only reason she decided to have a child at all, in order to carry on her legacy, but even in death, she is still the most powerful magic user I know.”

“She sounds nice,” Sansa said softly. “I wish I could have met her.”

“Oh, you will. Every year on my nameday, she projects herself to the realm of the living. Scared the shit out of me as a kid. She found it hilarious. She told me once that she regretted having me so late, because she never expected to be such a doting parent.” He looked to Beric. “Anything in the pool?”

“Sadly, no. The water and the Magic have retreated, leaving only the empty fountain. Ramsay has been monitoring the situation, but for now, we seem to be relatively safe. We will rest here, and continue on in a few hours.”

“Sounds good…” Sandor said, already beginning to nod off. 

**********

He dreamt of Sansa, that they were alone in the cavern, and her moans and cries were echoing off the walls as he feasted on her cunt, licking up her sweet essence. He was burnt in his dreams again, as he was when awake, but he found that as long as Sansa was with him, he didn't care anymore.

**********

The interference gone, and Sandor now better rested, they started off again. It wasn't long before they reached the end of the labyrinth. 

“She says to come visit again soon,” Ramsay told them. “She'll let you fulfill your dreams next time.”

“You mean I can have my bear-daughter?!” Jaime asked excitedly. 

“Wait...what?”

“Don't mind him, Ramsay. Jaime is...a little insane, from what I can tell,” Beric said. 

“Says the man who's choosing to live as a frog to escape his ‘brothers’,” Brienne said, bristling a bit. 

“I meant no offense, dear Brienne,” Beric said. “Insanity takes many forms. Not all of them are necessarily bad.”

“Sooooooo, what dreams was the labyrinth talking about if not my bear-daughter dreams?” Jaime asked, trying to soothe Brienne and distract her. 

“Ugly one, looks like,” Ramsay replied. “Ow!”

“Oh? What sort of dreams was he having?” Jaime asked, looking slyly at Sandor. Sandor glared. 

“Are you an idiot? I can't answer that.”

“But you are all knowing and are compelled to answer questions. So answer!” the blond man demanded. 

“Jaime…” Brienne warned.

“Idiot. My knowledge is of  _ this _ world. The dream realm is protected by the gods. As are the minds of sentient beings. Only a terrible and powerful entity can break through that protection. Everyone knows that,” Ramsay scowled. 

“So you admit you're not powerful enough?”

“Jaime!”

“No one is,” Sandor chimed in. “At least no one should be. Yet the person who set up that portal pool was able to hear my thoughts and react accordingly.”

“Not necessarily.” Beric was riding Arya's shoulder again. “The trouble with that sort of magic is that it is so rare, you or I would have noticed it immediately. A hypnotic suggestion, on the other hand, well, if he knew you might show up, he could have set up traps keyed to your presence. The portal pool could easily have been the anchor for that. You would have been the only one able to hear it, and it would have been something repeated to really drive it home. Were there any thoughts that you kept thinking?”

_ She deserves better. _ It had been there the whole time, and he had missed it. He felt like an idiot but it was so simple, he knew anyone would have been fooled by it. Even Beric. 

“I believe we've lost our element of surprise. He knows we're coming and he knows Sansa is still alive,” he said, changing the subject. 

“Hmmm… That’s not good. We can still work around it, but it makes things more complicated. What do you want to do? We could stop, go back...” 

“It’s like Sansa said earlier,” Sandor said softly, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “We face it. We can either do that or be stuck here, always wondering when he’ll come for us. We’ve come all this way. I don’t want to turn back. I don’t want to wonder when he’s going to try to kill me or steal Sansa. I want to get him before he gets us. If anyone wants to go back, that’s fine. I won’t hold it against you.”

“You trying to get rid of us, goodbrother?” Arya ask, her lips curling up into a slight smile. “You still have yet to prove yourself with my sister’s safety. Like hells I’m leaving.”

“This is too interesting for me to leave,” Jaime said.

“I can’t leave him alone,” Brienne said. “And I refuse to abandon you now anyway, even if you are no longer my master.”

Beric shrugged. “I’m game. And Ramsay hasn’t got a choice.” A string of curses came from the mirror man, and Beric promptly sat on him.

They all looked at Podrick. “Oh, um… I’d like to...stay...if that’s alright. And Miss Brienne said she’d teach me to fight.” He kept glancing at Arya. Sandor suspected it was more than Brienne's teaching that he was staying for. 

“Alright, then out of the labyrinth caves we go.” They exited the cave and found themselves in front of a large castle.

**********

The entrance to the castle was shrouded in inky darkness like a fog. Even shining a torch did nothing to pierce it, it simply went out. “Looks like this is the place then,” Arya said, throwing her useless torch to the ground. “Bit creepy.”

They all held hands, so as not to get lost, and made their way inside. 

“This is so idiotic,” Ramsay said. They all heard a small wet smack, presumably Beric’s webbed hand against Ramsay’s glass pane. “Watch it, frog,” he hissed.

“Behave, Tom Thumb. Or I will strap you, mirror side down, to my back and you can have a constant view of my amphibian buttocks.”

“Make me behave, bitch! Not like any of us can see anyway... Hey! What are you-- Stop that! Ugh, I can feel your slimy ass on my face…how is that even possible...”

“It’s the magic of me.” Beric was far to smug for Sandor to not laugh.

“How far do you think this dark cloud extends?” Brienne asked. 

“Possibly the entire first level. Not afraid of the dark, are you?” he asked. 

“I am not fond of it,” she replied. “Bad things happen in the dark.”

“Sexy things happen in the dark,” Jaime chirped. “Let the sexy happen, wench.”

“Jaime, that is not your wife’s bottom you’re caressing…” Pod said quietly. “And squeezing.” There was some silence, and then a slight retching sound.

They continued on in silence, only Beric’s instructions on where they should go. It felt like hours, slowly trudging this way and that. Sandor wasn’t certain how Beric was sure at all where they were going. The book had described the pitch black, and that it was easy to become lost forever. Beric’s croaking became more consistent, and it took Sandor a while to realize he was using it as a bat uses its high pitched screeches. It was little wonder that Beric was so confident. 

“Go right, there should be a staircase. We’ll need to go up it,” the frog said. “Brace yourself, the darkness should not extend to the second floor, and it will seem brighter than normal until your eyes adjust.”

The light practically burned after their time in the pitch black, but they waited until everyone in the group was ready to move on.

“So, the warlock or whatever,” Arya said, cracking her knuckles, “He’s here?”

“Probably in the highest room of the tallest tower,” Ramsay said. 

“Probably?” Beric asked.

Ramsay shrugged. “Most megalomaniacs like a view. He’s shielded himself, and this entire building for that matter, like the portal pool was shielded. I can’t ‘see’ anything about him. I’m just giving you my best guess based on the bitchy assholes I've known before.”

“To the tower then?” Sandor asked.

“Best place as any to start,” Beric said. “Though, if he knows we’re here…”

“Sandor! The blood charm!” Sansa cried, holding up the now glowing crystal.

“Shit… Ru--!” A magic circle appeared below them, a sudden burst of light and darkness overtook Sandor.

**********

“Every single fucking time…” Sandor groaned. His head was pounding and he wanted to kill the damn bitch. Just be done with it and go home with his little bird.

“Well, when you come into my home as an unwelcome guest, you should expect to be treated as such,” a voice said. 

As soon as he had seen the magic circle, he knew exactly who he was dealing with. Sandor looked up to see his former teacher. “Cersei,” he spat out. “It was you the entire time then? Are you fucking kidding me?” She looked as regal as ever, her dress was something you’d expect of a queen, gold embroidery on rich red fabric, trimmed in more gold. Her hair looked ridiculous in Sandor’s opinion, piled up on top of her head in complicated twists and braids. He much preferred Sansa’s simple, free flowing locks.

“Language, Sandor dear,” Cersei said with a smile. “Your little  _ wife _ has such delicate ears, doesn’t she?” 

Sandor saw Sansa, held in a crystal claw-like vise. She was still out cold. “What do you want with her, Cersei?” he growled. He glanced around the room. The others were there, also unconscious, except for Ramsay, who was glaring at Cersei. He, thankfully, remained quiet.

Cersei looked at him in surprise. “Oh, my, you don’t know, do you? Did the fire bitch not know either? That would explain a lot.” She waved her hand, and the crystal holding Sansa began to glow. “She’s special.”

Sansa’s magic shot out, forming a protective barrier around her, but it was drawn into the crystals, leeched from her body. She woke screaming. “Sandor…” she said, pain in her eyes.

“Stop! You’re killing her!”

Cersei looked at him like he was mad. “That’s not the point, darling. Don't worry, she won’t die for years and years. She is so  _ deliciously _ full of magic. And I will drain her of every last drop, take it into myself and make it my own.” She shot a disgusted look at her brother. “I cannot depend on my  _ twin _ any longer, therefore I will take her and all that she holds.”

“At the cost of her life?! At the cost of your soul?! You know what happens to magic users who steal others’ magic!” he screamed. Stealing another’s magic was taboo, forbidden by the ancient ones. To do so was to lose your soul and condemn yourself to the darkest hell.

“Oh, darling, you think she is the first?” Cersei laughed. “She is but one of many. How else could I have become this powerful in this short amount of time? I had to perfect my method of draining magic first, and she hadn’t awakened yet. I didn’t know even where to begin. Then, finally, after years of waiting for the prophecy to be fulfilled--”

“What prophecy?” Sandor growled.

Cersei stared at him for a moment, then began to cackle, her laughter becoming pure, unbridled, maniacal joy. “Oh my goodness! You’re serious! You married a Well and you didn’t even know it!! Not just any Well either. She has been foretold to be the most powerful Well in existence, that the one who claims her will know the most powerful magic of all. And you had no idea... That just takes it all.”

“A… A well?” Sandor searched his memory, and a lesson from his early days with Cersei came to mind, along with other memories, locked away behind a Knowing spell, the seal now broken by Cersei’s words. She had told him of this before... His stomach turned as he remembered.  _ Not a well, a Well. A person who is literally a Well of Magic. _ Cersei had spoken of the rarity of Wells, how most recorded instances were of people who had been driven insane by the sheer amount of power they had. There was always a trigger, a run-in with magic that set them off, and unless they had someone to help them stabilize their magic, the power would eventually consume them. It was hard to control the uncontrollable in that kind of situation. It was possible, but there were no known records of it. 

It was said that that was what caused the destruction of Valaryia, an ancient land that had long disappeared before the famed Azor Ahai had even been born. Some historians weren’t even sure if the land had existed in the first place, or if it was just a story made up to entertain the masses.

He remembered that Cersei had been consumed with finding one, to use that person’s power for the good of humankind, to bring them back to the prosperity the world had once known before the Dark Time, when the dead had roamed the earth and only the second coming of Azor Ahai had saved it. But Cersei was a selfish person at heart, no matter how she tried to be good. Sandor had learned that the hard way when she had attempted to turn  _ him _ into a Well via fire magic, telling him it was for the greater good. The problem was, you cannot make a Well. They must be born. The magic had gone awry, and he had been burned, marked by the magic. He hadn’t held it against her, not then. He had continued to learn from her, grown under her care, but his distrust of her had also grown over the years, and on his eighteenth nameday, after his mother’s ghost had had her yearly visit, Cersei had approached him with wine and honeyed promises of love. 

It had been a sham. He knew she lusted after his body, no finer a specimen could be found. He had felt the same about her when she had taken him under her wing, but by the time he was thirteen he had known that she would never love anyone other than herself. This time was no different, and her words of love were soon followed by words of intrigue. She had told him she had found a Well, untapped and unaware of their own magic, but also shrouded in mystery. She didn’t know  _ who _ it was, only the general area of where they lived. She had some loosely formed plans in play, but she wasn’t willing to bet everything on them. If he became her errand boy, found and enslaved the poor soul to her, she would reward him by making him her lover and would let him taste the Well’s magic. He had spurned her, unable to even comprehend why someone would want to do that, and left Casterly Rock that very day. She hadn’t tried to chase him, but soon after he left, he was unable to recall why he had been upset in the first place. He had suspected she had done something in case he said no so that he wouldn’t remember.  _ Looks like I was right, _ he thought bitterly. His memory had been sealed until the “forbidden knowledge” had been brought up again.

“Looks like you remember your lessons, darling,” Cersei said with a smile.

“Oh, I remember alright,” he snarled. “You should have killed me when you had the chance. Now that I’m awake--”

“You won’t be doing a damn thing,” Cersei said. She held up her hand as if she was holding something. “Take a look. Use your senses and see what is as plain as the pretty nose on your wife’s face.”

His head was still pounding, but he used it to help him focus. His eyes shone with an unholy light, and he saw the spell, a magical link, extending from Cersei to Sansa like a delicate chain. “You did a fate binding spell.”

“Correct! Anything that happens to me, will happen to her, and vice versa. So, as I said, you will not be killing me.” She walked up to where he sat on the floor, and leaned over. Her dress was tight and her breasts threatened to spill out, but he suspected that was what she was going for. She was certainly giving him enough to view, though he kept his eyes on hers. “In fact, you will be my protector. You will stay here, with me, and we will be one happy little family. You will be my lover, whether you want it or not. As I said, everything that your wife feels, I feel. When you make love to her, you will be making love to me as well. And I’ve been watching you two. For quite a while now. Every since she revealed her magic when she broke my curse.” Sandor gaped at her. The only curse Sansa had broken was  _ his, _ which meant… 

“You…  _ You _ cursed me?!” 

“Well, of course! Once I found you again, living in that awful town, squandering your talents… Fucking that awful tavern whore… You chose her cunt over mine, darling. This one,” she gestured to Sansa, “This one I can understand. She will make an excellent plaything, such firm breasts, a dainty waist, lovely thighs…” Sansa glared at Cersei. “But that one?? She was just a hole to you, wasn’t she? And you chose  _ her _ over  _ me. _ I could not let that stand.”

“You were jealous of Mina? I wasn’t even fucking her!” he shouted. “She was just a client that used my presence to scare off the riffraff that bothered her!”

Cersei gave a small sniff, indicating she didn’t believe him. “Regardless, I  _ know _ there’s no way you would go without your little wife. She’s like a drug to you. But...don’t you wonder? How much of it is her, and how much of it is her magic? How much of that love you claim to have for her is truly because of  _ her?” _

Sandor’s jaw clenched, but he forced a smile. “What do you know of love for someone other than yourself? I loved her the moment I knew her, long before her magic became apparent. So you can go fuck yourself with your little mind games. Enjoy it while you can, because I will break that link, and then I will kill you.”

“You can try,” she replied, but she looked a bit shaken.

Sandor looked past her to Sansa. “How are you unable to feel her pain?” Sansa was currently silent, listening to everything they were saying, but it was easy to see the state she was in. She was struggling to stand the pain she was in.

“I do feel it, but this is nothing for me. A pleasant tingle, even,” Cersei said, straightening up. She cupped her own breast with one hand, squeezing it lightly, as her other pressed at the juncture of her thighs through the fabric of her dress. “Very pleasant.” She pinched her nipple and Sandor saw Sansa wince. “She will eventually grow to love the pain, to be aroused by it, to need it to reach her peak.” 

Sansa looked horrified by the prospect.

**********

“She’s a piece of work,” Ramsay said once Cersei left the room. 

“No shit. Is there anything you can tell me about...anything? I know she’s bound a lot of information up in protection spells, but if there’s anything you can ‘see’...at all...”

Ramsay got that faraway look on his face. “Not much, I’m afraid. Except that the impulsive one is about to be impulsive.”

“The impulsive…” Sandor looked up to see Arya about to strike the crystal vise holding Sansa. “ARYA! NO!”

“Shut up, Demon. I’m going to free my sister,” Arya said, bringing the heavy vase she had found down on the crystal. She was thrown back at the two connected, and Sansa screamed, passing out from the concussive force. “Ow…”

Sandor rose and stormed over to Arya, picked her up by her shirt and shook her. “You nearly killed her!”

Arya’s eyes went wide. “I was just trying--”

“I know what you were trying and it’s the wrong way! Sansa is currently  _ bound _ to that thing, as she is to Cersei. Breaking it will kill her, and only if we were  _ lucky _ would it kill Cersei as well.”

Arya looked at Sansa with a pained face. “Is there anything you can do?”

“Maybe. If I have time. Go, follow Cersei, see if you can find out anything, but don’t get caught, and don’t do anything to her. Anything that happens to her will happen to Sansa as well. The fate binding spell is a two way street.”

**********

Ramsay informed him that Arya had indeed found Cersei and that the woman had been knocked unconscious by the strike to the crystal vise. “Small favors,” Sandor muttered as he continued to study the crystal. It was draining Sansa’s magic, though since she was knocked out, she couldn’t feel a thing.

“Lift me up, would you?” Beric called to him from the floor. Ramsay was strapped to his back still, so the two were placed on Sandor’s open palm as he used his mage vision. “This is a very powerful device. Cersei came up with it herself?”

“Looks like it. Trial and error, it seems,” Sandor said. “Sansa’s not the first.”

“Oh… Oh my…” Beric said.

Sandor nodded. “As far as I can tell, the only way to break the hold on Sansa is to kill Cersei, but we can’t kill Cersei because that would kill Sansa as well. If the Red Witch was here, maybe... _ maybe _ she’d be able to resurrect her again, but she’s not here.”

“You’re thinking too hard on this. There’s always a solution, usually a simple one,” Beric said. “Cersei is powerful, yes, and most assuredly damned, but she’s also a mortal, and mortals are fallible.”

“The stupid one is awake,” Ramsay told them.

“Ugh, my head…” they both heard Jaime say. “Where the hell is my  _ darling _ sister,” he said with a scowl. It seemed Jaime had recognized the magic circle as well.

“Arya’s watching over her,” Sandor said, sparing him a glance. “Cersei underestimated her knockout spell, and the fact that we would sit by and  _ let _ her do this. Don’t know how long she’ll be out though.”

“Take a left and then right, and you’ll find Arya in the grand hall,” Ramsay said. He looked very bored. The culling of his information curse seemed to have depressed him.

Jaime checked on Brienne and Pod before heading out.

“I’m not seeing a solution here, old man,” Sandor said. He was tired, his head still hurt and he just wanted to escape with Sansa to someplace where people would just leave them alone for at least a month.

“You’re letting your frustration get the better of you. What would Sansa tell you, if she was awake?”

“I don’t know! I just don’t fucking know!! She’s the best thing in this godforsaken world, the only one capable of seeing the good in  _ any _ person and I have no idea what she would--”

_ How’s that work? _

Sandor stopped. Sansa was inquisitive, she wanted to know how things worked, she wanted to please Sandor by learning all she could.  _ How’s that work? _ She asked it so many times, happily, eager to hear his answer, hungry to know.

“How this thing work…” he muttered. He had been examining it with the wrong line of thinking. He focused his sight on the crystal. By itself, a crystal was just a conductor of energy, much like a metal rod. This vice, while elaborate, was just a crystal. Shattering it would break the bond on Sansa, but since it was wrapped around her, the explosion of energies would kill her. “But this is draining her energy...and it has to lead somewhere…it’s not storing it here...” He walked around the crystal. It was anchored into the ground. A small grate surrounded the anchor. Placing Beric on the floor, Sandor knelt down and took the grating off, but he couldn’t see anything past the immediate area. “Beric, Ramsay, any chance you two can find out where the crystal leads? Where the drained power is being stored?”

“Of course,” Beric said, hopping over to the hole in the floor. A crash was heard outside of the room. “Hmm...seems Cersei’s awake. Best put the grating back, just in case.” He hopped down, and Sandor covered the hole. He stood back up in front of Sansa, and not a moment too soon, as Jaime and Arya came crashing in through the door, thrown by an unseen magical force. Arya rolled to her feet, Jaime as well, though less gracefully.

“Oh, brother  _ dear, _ how far you have fallen if you think you could possibly beat me.” Cersei’s mouth curled into a smirk, walking into the room. “And you, child, how dare you raise your hand to me. After all I’ve done for you!’

“You’ve never done anything for me,” Arya spat out. “You’ve done plenty  _ to _ me and mine, including getting my brother to kill my sister. You will pay for that.”

“Oh, yes, that. Robb always did have less sense than a goose, and more impatience than a jittery cat.” She waved it off. “He wasn’t  _ supposed _ to kill her. He was supposed to kill  _ him.” _ She pointed at Sandor. “But it’s just as well that he didn’t, that she saved her  _ beloved demon, _ because that would have set the Well off like a keg of gunpowder. The little village would have been a hole in the ground, with no one to know it even existed.”

Arya glared at her. “What the hell is gunpowder?”

Cersei laughed. “Oh, you sweet, little lamb. There is so much more to this world than you could ever imagine! The sights, the wonders, the pleasures to be had! And your sister will know that world. To an extent. She will learn to be happy. She will have her demon and she will learn to live as my source of magic. Better to be the right hand of the conqueror than the one stepped on.”

“Wait...how did you know she saved me?” Sandor asked. He would have noticed if Cersei was in the crowd, noticeable as she was, unless… “You glamoured yourself...and were among the people there.”

“Of course I was,” she said, looking at him like he was an idiot, and he certainly felt like one. How could he not have even thought about the possibility? Cersei muttered some words and waved a hand over herself. Her long, golden blonde hair shortened and changed to a dull light yellow. Her green eyes became blue, her nose became smaller, and her facial structure went from a triangle to a squarish shape. 

“Mrs. Baratheon!?” Arya exclaimed. “You're Mrs. Baratheon!?”

“As in Elder Baratheon’s wife?” Sandor asked. “The man who wanted Sansa to marry his son?”

Cersei discarded the glamour, “Yes. At my insistence, once I realized she was the Well. Joffrey is of my blood, and binding her to him would bind her to me. After all the trouble I went through to bear a child, gambling that the Well would be born in that ghastly village, living there for so many years under the guise of ‘Sarah’, marrying and then laying with that man so he'd believe it was his…” 

“Joffrey isn't Elder Baratheon’s son?” Arya asked. 

Cersei shrugged. “Who knows. I took many men to my bed to ensure pregnancy. I just needed  _ a _ child. Girl, boy, didn’t matter. Spouse, friend, my child could have ensnared the Well. Who actually sired the child was less important. Robert may be his father, but the King of the Gnomes could be as well.”

“The gnomes? Seriously?” Arya made a face. Sandor concurred, gnomes were temperamental creatures, prone to impulsiveness and not thinking clearly.

Cersei grinned. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, honey. They’re rather…  _ gifted, _ if you catch my drift.”

“Ew.”

Cersei glared at her. “Why am I even bothering with you?” She waved her hand at Arya and the girl went flying across the room, crashing into the wall. She turned to Jaime. “Brother, dear. I have missed you. I have a room for you, all prepared for you to come back. With you, and the Well, I will become unstoppable.”

“I’m good with my wench, thanks,” Jaime spat out. “We’re going to go visit Tyrion after this.”

“That little dwarf? Tch. You never learn.” Another wave of her hand, and Jaime was sent sprawling. Sandor was the only one left standing. He quickly glanced at his companions. Brienne and Pod were still out, Arya and Jaime had rejoined her. “Now, Sandor...darling. About my offer…” She waved her hand a third time, but instead of being sent backwards, Sandor was frozen in place. The air hummed with her power as she forced him to kneel. “If you don’t accept it, I will simply kill you, which would be a shame. A body as fine as yours and the power to level whole countries, the world would tremble at our feet.”

Sandor looked past her at Sansa. She was beginning to rouse again and she didn’t seem to be in pain anymore. Cersei hadn’t noticed, but Sandor suspected she would if her focus didn’t stay on him. “How can I trust that you won’t drain me and keep Sansa for yourself?”

Cersei giggled. It was an unnerving sound. “Because if you play with Sansa, and I get to reap the benefit, why would I do that? You have no idea how much I love the pleasures of the body.” Her other hand slid down the front of his body, then into his breeches to fondle him. “Oh… oh my… Even better than I imagined. Sandor, darling, we could have had such  _ fun _ if you had just agreed to my plan to begin with. And you would have had your little  _ wife _ to play with so much sooner.”

He wanted to smash her face in. She didn’t understand that the bond he and Sansa had built may have started physically, but now it was so much more. If he had accepted Cersei’s offer at the time, he  _ might _ have had Sansa sooner, but would they have the same relationship they had at the moment? He doubted it. 

“Hmmm...I’ll have to do a binding spell on you,” she said thoughtfully. “I can’t risk you trying to rescue the little lamb or leaving me again.” She pushed him down, turning him until he was on his back and she was straddling him. “I hadn’t expected that I had enough power to control  _ you. _ This is a pleasant surprise. I think I will take a taste of what I can expect. Let’s hope the little lamb wakes. I want her to feel everything as she watches me mount her husband.” 

Sandor tried in vain to move, to shove Cersei off him, but he couldn’t even blink.  _ How many people did she drain to have this much of an increase in her power?? _ Thankfully, she hadn’t removed either of their clothings, but he still felt awful. He heard a soft thud, but he couldn’t turn to see what it was. Cersei was too preoccupied rutting against him to notice it. 

“Oh, yes, this will do nicely,” she said, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. “I can’t wait until I can actually feel you inside me--” Her words cut off and Sandor saw her struggling for air. His movement was still frozen, and he couldn’t see what was doing it, but Cersei was clawing at her throat.

“Let. Him.  _ Go,” _ Sansa said. 

Cersei was turning blue, but a frantic wave of her hand had Sandor able to move again. He pushed Cersei away and sat up. Sansa had Cersei in a magical bind. Her fist controlling the spell, if she didn’t let go soon, she would kill Cersei. He didn’t particularly care if the bitch lived or not, but he didn’t want Sansa to have that stain on her soul. It changed a person, had changed him long ago, and it would destroy Sansa. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. He got up and walked to his wife, placing his hand over the controlling fist.

“Let go, little bird,” he whispered. “She deserves to die, but she deserves punishment first.”

“She was going to rape you!” Sansa protested, not taking her eyes off Cersei.

“I know… but she didn’t. You stopped her. My brave, loving wife. She will pay for what she did. For everything she did. But death is not the answer. Killing her...  Killing her would be too quick. Don’t you think?” He watched Sansa’s face, the concern, the struggle to punish immediately warring with the need to enact justice. “Besides, she would welcome death in place of judgement.”

Sansa let go immediately, and Cersei fell to the floor, gasping for air. 

“How did you get free?” Sandor asked, trying to distract Sansa from the woman she had almost killed.

“That would be because of us,” Sandor heard from below him. He looked down and saw Beric, Ramsay still strapped to his back, give a little wave. He picked the frog. “We disabled the device, and were able to free Sansa easily.” 

_ That must have been the thud I heard earlier, _ Sandor thought.

“How can we possibly punish her?” Sansa asked. “She’s more powerful than you… I was only able to get to her because she didn’t notice me. Any moment now, she’ll get up and-- Sandor?”

He marched over to Cersei and lifted her by neck. He wasn’t choking her, but it wasn’t pleasant for her either. “Beric, can you reactivate the vise?”

“Yes, of course, why-- Oh, I see. Yes, that will work. Anytime you’re ready, Sandor.” The frog hopped along with him as he walked Cersei over to the machine Sansa had previously been trapped in, shoving her into the crystal grips. Beric chanted an incantation, and the crystals glowed, closing in on Cersei. She was still coughing, trying to fight him, but she was too weak to make much headway.

“There. See how she likes it,” Sandor snarled. “If I’m right, this will drain all the power in you, until you have no magic left.”

Her voice was ragged and harsh, even more so than his own. “You’ll be damned as well. Taking my magic from me…”

“But not for myself. The gods will forgive me. Especially since I will be preventing you from ever taking anyone’s magic again. Beric, if you would.” The crystals glowed as Cersei screamed profanities, promising to curse them to the darkest hell alongside her. 

“Hmmm,” Beric said, rubbing his chin with a webbed hand. “This could take a while, and I do not particularly care for her shouting. Shall we explore the castle a bit? Maybe find some rooms to rest in?”

“Will it be safe to leave her by herself in that contraption?” Sansa asked as she and Pod, who had woken up from Cersei’s screaming, tended to Arya. The younger girl had hit her head, but Ramsay grudgingly assured them that she would be fine.

“Yes, she can’t get out. It was designed to engage and disengage through keywords. I was able to change those when I manually overrode the spells, but I was only able to do it because I physically touched them. She won’t be able to. A paradox she set up herself to insure no one could escape, and she was cocky enough to believe she’d never be trapped in it.”

“What about the fate binding spell?” Sandor asked. Sansa had been unaffected by anything done to Cersei, when earlier she had felt it all.

“Seems it was not tied to Sansa, but to the device,” Beric said. “It’s currently looping back on itself, can’t you see?”

Sandor’s eyes glowed again. The link was electric, feeding back over and over and over again. “It’ll snap soon,” he said. “We shouldn’t be here with it happens.”

“Why? What’s going to happen?” Jaime asked, concern on his pretty face. Sandor looked over at him in amusement. “Hey, I may be angry at her, but she’s still my sister.”

“The spell will snap, as I said. She will likely pass out from it, but otherwise will be fine. Anyone around her will be bombarded with magical shrapnel. It’s not pleasant. We should leave for now.”

**********

The snap of the spell didn’t actually happen until late into the night, when they had finally been able to get to sleep. It was thunder without sound, echoing down into their very bones. “Shit...that was a strong spell,” Sandor muttered as he checked on Cersei, accompanied by Beric. As predicted, she was knocked out, but was very much alive. 

“Beric, does something seem  _ odd _ to you?” He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it felt…

“It’s like the burnt section of my parents’ house,” Sansa said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she walked up beside him. “No magic at all.”

Sandor snapped his fingers. “That’s what it is. Damn, too tired to deal with this shit.” Sansa giggled and slid her arm around his waist. 

“Is it because of the crystal?” she asked. Sandor looked over to Beric, who looked back at Sandor.

“A combination, I think,” Beric said at last, “Of the crystal and the fate spell. Curious things happen when you toss fate into the mix, I suppose. Lift me up, Sandor, right on top of her head.”

Like he had done with Sansa, Beric tested Cersei’s magic, or lack thereof, as the case might be. Pod and Brienne wandered in. They had decided to patrol the halls while the others slept, seeing as how they had been unconscious for so long earlier. 

“Oh...oh, dear… though I suppose it is for the best…” Beric mumbled. 

Sandor narrowed his eyes at the frog. “What is it?”

He looked up in surprise. “Oh… well… She's been stripped of magic altogether.”

“Never to acquire it again,” Ramsay chimed in. He had that faraway look again. “She has been cursed by the gods themselves. Cersei Lannister will never wield magic again, nor will any future child of hers. Her current child was born with the ability to work magic, due to his father being… Oh. Well that's a rather boring man.” 

“How awful. I suppose...her fate has been decided,” Sansa whispered. Sandor nodded, but felt little remorse. He had done what he had to do in order to keep Sansa safe. If he had to do it again, knowing the consequences, he wouldn't hesitate. 

“We'll head back home after a full day’s rest,” Sandor said. He had always hated adventuring. Completely drained him physically.  _ At least I can magick us back easily. _

“What of the castle?” Brienne asked. 

“Dreamwind is free of Cersei’s clutches, the darkness guarding it dispelled when her magic left her. I'm sure the guardians will look the place over and return it to what it once was.”

“It will be so,” a voice behind them said. “Purification has begun and soon enough, a new Dreamwind will be born.” They all turned to see the raggedy man, standing with two others, a boy and a woman covered in green foliage. “A group may stay as long as a group wishes. The purification will proceed regardless. Safety is guaranteed.”

“You are welcome to return, if you so choose,” the boy said. “Though I expect you will want to visit the new King of Dreamwind, seeing as you love your family.”

“I beg your pardon?” Sansa said, bewildered. 

The green woman spoke. “Forgive my brother, he sees things a little differently than most people, and often confuses the past, present and future.” She turned to the boy. “Jojen, I believe you are speaking of the future?”

Jojen cocked his head to the side, reminding Sandor of a sunflower following the sun. “Am I? Oh. I suppose I am. Not so distant is that future. Nearly set in stone.” He turned to Sansa. “You should invite your brother to visit you. The clever one.” He turned to Sandor. “You should mentor him, as well as your wife. I will visit to take over his studies when the time is right.”

Sandor's eyebrow went up. “Alright…”

"Thank you," the woman said. "You have done us, the Guardians, a great service. The wicked one kept us from the castle, but now...now we are home again. You have no idea how much this means to us and the rest of the Guardians to finally be able to come home."

Sandor looked down at Sansa. "I have an inkling."

“Travelers will sleep well,” the raggedy man said. “Goodbye.”


	17. Part 2, Chapter 9

Sandor woke from sleep with a violent start. He was in his underground castle, on the dais in the throne room, staring down at his paws. 

His heart started hammering in his chest.  _ No! No! No! It couldn't have been-- _

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to not fall.  _ It was just a dream? All of it? No little bird? No adventures across the land? _ There was no sound in the castle. No echoes of her laughter or anything else. “Fuck,” he whispered softly. 

Something stirred behind him. “Sandor?” said a sleepy voice. “Are you ok? Ow… Remind me to bring an actual mattress the next time we make love here. This platform is not kind to my back.”

He turned around, his canine enhanced senses picking up details he had previously missed in his sleep addled state. Her scent. Her warmth. He nuzzled her affectionately. “Little bird,” he said in his demon dog voice. 

“My hellhound,” she whispered. “Did you have the dream again?” 

He nodded. 

“You really need to change back to your human form before falling asleep. No wonder you woke up upset.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Change back, my love. Your demon form is fun, but I want my wonderful, human husband.”

His body became fuzzy, morphing and changing colors and shape until he was back to his usual self. He remembered now. Their adventure to find Dreamwind had ended months ago. They had returned to the underground castle. They spent a lot of time together, usually naked. He taught her self control over her magic but a loss of control in their love. Their chaotic couplings were the best parts of his day, and hers too. He made sure of that. He also made sure that they were magically protected from pregnancy. Until she had a decent control over her magic, it was unwise to bring a new life into the world. Pregnancy wreaked havoc with non-magical women. He didn’t want to even  _ think _ of what would happen with Sansa’s magic.

Their time alone in the castle was coming to a close, even without children. Well, children of their own. Jaime and Brienne would be moving in soon, and their eventual spawn would be arriving sometime after that. They had taken Cersei back to the Lannister home, powerless that she was now, and needed someone to take care of her. Jaime refused to do any more than deliver her to their father. Beric was going to move in as well, in order to become Sansa's second mentor, but not until after he made things right with the Brotherhood. That might take a few months. Beric insisted on going without them, with only Ramsay as company. Ramsay had little to do but protest, which he had done in spades, and had been dragged off by Beric when they went their separate ways. Bran Stark would live with them in a year’s time, along with Arya and Rickon, if they wanted. Robb was not allowed inside the mountain castle and the rest of the family wished to stay in the village, though they were invited to visit for short intervals. 

“How much longer do we have the castle to ourselves?” he asked Sansa as they got dressed. Dressing really was an informal occasion. She wore his shirt and smallclothes most days. That would end once Brienne and Jaime moved into the castle. Sansa sat down in front of the crystal ball Sandor had given her. She was getting better at viewings, and might be able to graduate to a mirror before Beric returned.

“Looks like Jaime and Brienne are leaving in the next few days. It will take them about a month to get here. Maybe more, since Brienne is starting to show signs of morning sickness.” She looked up at him with her big, pleading eyes. “Can we…”

“If you insist, yes. We can have a small feast for them.” She smiled and looked back at her crystal. “Check on your family while you’re at it. I want to see if your sister has managed to kill Pod yet.” Podrick had decided to stay with Arya, and while she still seemed angry at him, had deigned to allow it. 

Sansa giggled and peered into the orb. "Looks like everyone's doing well... Where is Arya..." She gasped, “Oh, my…” and shoved the ball away from her. “She has not killed him. Not unless she’s going to kill him with intimacies.”

Sandor snorted. “Death by sex is difficult, but I would think it’d at least be enjoyable.” Sansa giggled again, and got up to walk with him to the kitchen.

“I like this,” she murmured. “Just the two of us, but I will be happy to see our friends again.”

“And, if we ever need alone time, the labyrinth did say we’d be welcome back any time,” he reminded her.

“Mmmm… I can’t wait…” she said, smiling happily at him. “Especially after those dreams you told me about.”

“Me either, little bird. Me either.”


End file.
